V-iirciiit 


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OO'f 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


THE  COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINIANA 

PRESENTED  BY 


tr  ans  .    f  r  om  Ma  in 


CB 

K48w 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00032193983 

FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


E.  ALSTON  WILKES 


TKe 

Circuit  Riders 
Sketch  Book 


By  E.  ALSTON  WILKES 

of  the  South  Carolina 
Conference 


Price:  75  Cents 


1907 

THE  R.  L.  BRYAN  COMPANY 

COLUMBIA.  S.  C, 


CONTENTS 

PART  I. 


PAGE 


CHAPTEB 

I.  Introduction — Letter  to  President  John  Kilgo.  .  .  3 

II.  The  Response 13 

III.  Where  to  Find  Heaven 18 

IV.  Housekeeper  Wanted 20 

V.  Death  and  Burial  Before  the  Time 21 

VI.  Heading  Off  a  Negro  College 22 

VII.  The  Governor's  Salary 26 

VIII.  The  Murdered  Wife 27 

IX.  Family  Prayer 29 

X.  Two  Educators  Who  Educated 31 

XI.  "The  Pestilence  that  Walketh  in  Darkness" 34 

XII.  Notes  and  Notions 46 

PART  II. 

I.  A  Mill  Village  Scene 67 

II.  All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men 70 

III.  Monck's  Comer,  S.  C 81 

IV.  The  Jig  and  the  German 85 

V.  South  Carohna  Conference  Scenes 91 

VI.  "Some  Village  Hampden" 97 

MI.  The  Farmer  Member 101 

VIII.  Recollections  of  Early  Childhood 103 

IX.  Earthquake  Incident 105 

X.  Sundry  Subjects 110 


Contents. 
PART  III. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Rev.  Samuel  Spookendyke 133 

II.  List  of   Leading  Laymen,    South   Carolina   Con- 
ference   137 

III.  This,  That  and  T'other 141 

IV.  The  "Call"  to  Preach 154 

V.  Items  and  Ideas 184 

VI.  Beside  the  Couch  of  the  Dying  Itinerant 203 

Advertisements 209 

Notes  and  Personals 215 

The  Negro  Question 226 


CHAPTER  I. 

Introduction:  Letter  to  President  John  KUgo. 

Holly  Hill,  S.  C,  September  9,  1907. 
President  of  Trinity  College,  N.  C. 

Dear  Brother  John  Kilgo :  It  has  been  a  decade  and  two 
years  since  you  have  met  with  your  brethren  in  this  State  as 
a  member  of  the  South  Carohna  Conference.  Many  then 
who  did  dehght  to  meet  and  greet  you  have  gone  from  us, 
and  have  been  transferred  forever.  It  might  afford  you  a 
melancholy  pleasure  to  have  the  long  sad  roll  recalled,  and 
have  brought  to  mind  the  lofty  characters  and  noble  bearings 
of  the  fallen  braves  who  it  seems  but  yesterday  talked  and 
walked  among  us.  But  such  is  life.  We  are  here  to  act 
our  parts  on  the  world's  stage  of  action  in  the  drama  of  hfe 
with  its  sunshine  and  shadows  for  a  while,  then  the  final  act 
is  played,  and  the  closing  scene — and  we  make  exit  forever. 
Let  us  hastily  review  the  list  and  call  the  roll  of  those  who 
were  hearty  and  happy  just  twelve  years  ago,  but  upon 
whose  graves  today  the  autumn  leaves  are  silently  falUng. 

First,  R.  N.  Wells,  who  died  in  his  prime.  How  easily  his 
face  and  suavity  of  manner  can  be  recalled.  Franks,  Seale, 
Laird,  Pritchard,  Jno.  A.  Mood — all  elderly  men  who  died 
in  the  faith.  Then  comes  Kirkland,  another  one  whom  God 
took  from  us  ere  the  world  knew  his  worth;  and  then  follow 
Thos.  Raysor,  W.  W.  Mood,  Bellinger,  Lester,  H.  M.  Mood, 
Few,  Johnson,  Patterson,  Carson,  Simpson  Jones,  Dickson, 
Munnerlyn,  Bissell,  Dantzler,  Verdin,  A.  M.  Attaway,  Elwell, 
H.  M.  Pooser,  Loyless,  Price,  Sidi  H.  Browne,  Owen,  D.  A. 
Patrick,  Kistler,  A.  W.  Walker,  C.  E.  Wiggins,  M.  L. 
Banks,  Auld,  J.  F.  Smith,  G.  E.  Stokes,  Berry,  Porter, 
Hamer,  Pate,  Loyal,  Thos.  G.  Herbert,  Jno.  Attaway,  Stoll, 
J.  E.  Grier,  Wright,  Darby,  A.  J.  Cauthen,  Reynolds,  Lan- 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

der,  Earle  and  Pitts.  Few  and  Verdin  were  both  young,  not 
more  than  thirty — ^the  former  had  just  married.  Elwell  died 
suddenly;  so  did  Berry.  Owen  died  of  a  gun-shot  wound — 
accident.  G.  E.  Stokes,  at  one  Conference  session  read  a 
most  interesting  sketch  of  the  Hfe  and  character  of  Paul 
Kistler;  the  next  session  of  the  Annual  Conference,  at  the 
solemn  memorial  service  it  was  the  painful  duty  of  another 
to  read  the  "In  Memoriam"  of  Stokes.  You  well  remember 
that  sterling  saint,  J.  C.  Stoll.  The  next  to  the  last  time 
we  dined  together  was  at  Williamston,  in  '92,  in  the 
delightful  parsonage  home  of  Bro.  Stoll.  The  weather  was 
cool  and  bracing,  and  I  remember  that  well-prepared  dinner 
to  this  day,  and  the  pleasantries  and  the  tone  and  tenor 
of  the  sprightly  conversation.  Brethren  present  were  Stoll, 
Lander,  Verdin,  Kilgo  and  myself.  Two  are  left.  The 
Lord  bless  the  precious  memory  of  the  three  that  have 
been  taken.  At  another  dining,  one  bright  day  at  WofFord, 
Jas.  E.  Grier  sat  opposite  me  in  the  strength  and  beauty  of 
young  manhood.  Oh,  how  the  heart  does  sadden  when  one 
thinks  of  the  empty  chairs,  and  the  charming  voices  that  are 
hushed  forever !  Wright,  Earle  and  Pitts  also  died  young 
and  nobly,  the  flowers  on  their  graves  have  all  faded  long 
ago.  But  besides  these  there  are  others,  namely:  N.  L. 
Wiggins,  Jno.  M.  Carlisle,  A.  J.  Stokes,  Clifton,  Humbert, 
Rogers,  Campbell  and  Beckwith.  Beckwith  passed  away 
while  in  the  thirties,  full  of  promise,  the  idol  of  his  congre- 
gation, and  he  died  so  suddenly — appendicitis.  Preached  on 
Sunday,  the  next  Sabbath  the  funeral  bell. 

"All  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour." 

Clifton's  departure  was  also  without  a  note  of  warning. 
What  a  charming  fellow  he  was!  There  was  no  one  among 
us  whose  good  heart  and  sincere  spirit  were  as  conspicuous. 
Let  me  relate  an  incident.     I  remember  well  an  appointment  I 

4 


Letter  to  President  John  Kilgo. 

was  given  at  the  session  of  the  Conference  held  in  Sumter 
some  years  ago.  I  had  been  preacher  in  charge  of  what 
many  would  call  rather  hard  appointments,  and  really  I  had 
begun  to  think  so  too.  At  Sumter  I  encouraged  the  thought 
that  in  the  providence  of  God  I  would  receive  then  and  there 
what  is  considered  generally  a  promising  field  and  a  fine 
appointment.  The  good  Bishop  read  me  out  in  the  strongest, 
clearest  tone  of  voice  for  a  mission — a  charge  of  distances, 
bad  roads  and  some  good  people.  I  left  the  Conference  room 
with  a  heavy  heart,  and  meeting  Clifton  in  the  street  I  told 
him  my  trouble.  He  proposed  that  we  go  somewhere  and 
pray  over  it.  I  readily  consented,  for  I  felt  like  a 
"mourner"  and  was  far  from  being  at  ease  in  Zion.  In  a 
back  sandy  street,  where  no  one  would  likely  pass  by  at  a 
late  hour,  was  the  place  selected  to  pray.  On  our  knees  in 
the  soft,  deep  sand  we  knelt,  and  Clifton  offered  a  most  earn- 
est and  impressive  prayer  for  the  "penitent,"  and  prayed  God 
to  bless  his  services  for  the  Master  in  that  mission  charge.  I 
was  greatly  relieved  and  refreshed  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
services  and  found  myself  willing  to  go  anywhere,  notwith- 
standing it  may  be  a  mission  of  long  distances  and  bad  roads. 
I  will  never  forget  that  prayer  meeting  at  the  midnight  hour 
in  a  rear  street  of  Sumter,  Maybe  some  day  in  the  sweet 
by  and  by  in  the  golden  streets  of  the  New  Jerusalem  we 
will  talk  over  the  blessed  scenes  that  occurred  in  this  world 
below. 

Thus  ends  the  roll.  Only  twelve  years  have  passed,  and 
sixty-one  valiant  men  have  gone  to  their  reward.  Others 
have  taken  their  places  and  the  great  work  moves  on.  The 
effective  force  now  of  the  Conference  consists,  first,  of  not  a 
few  grave  and  elderly  brethren  of  whom  we  all  are  proud. 
They  have  grit  and  grace,  and  will  stay  in  the  field  a  long 
time  before  they  will  consent  to  retire.  How  the  average 
Methodist  preacher  does  dread  superannuation !  The  next 
is  a  strong  column  of  the  stalwarts,  in  age  ranging  from  35 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

to  55  3^ears — a  mighty  mixture  of  fats  and  leans,  of  grissle, 
gumption  and  goodness.  And  we  have  companies  and 
classes  of  younger  men  and  fledglings  who  have  taken  their 
college  courses  and  their  Conference  or  correspondent  courses, 
and  as  a  general  rule  they  make  up  a  hearty,  happy  march- 
ing phalanx.  Now  and  then  one  comes  fresh  from  the  farm 
and  field,  or  from  the  mill  and  store,  not  so  well  trained  and 
tutored,  but  consecrated  and  full  of  zeal,  believing  that  God 
has  called  him  to  preach  the  gospel. 

The  ranks  of  the  local  preacher  in  the  South  Carolina  Con- 
ference are  thinning  rapidly.  At  the  Laurens  Conference, 
in  1894<,  we  had  a  commendable  roll  of  160 ;  at  our  last  Con- 
ference, 1906,  there  were  only  84.  Probably  before  another 
twelve  years  will  have  passed  the  local  preacher  will  be  no 
more,  and  the  conspicuous  monument  at  his  grave  will  be 
a  record  of  glorious  achievements  in  the  past  of  long  ago, 
when  he  lived  and  labored  and  proved  a  mighty  power  in 
making  Methodism  what  it  is  today. 

During  the  twelve  years  gone  there  has  been  wonderful 
progress  shown  and  realized  by  our  schools  and  colleges. 
Two  of  our  institutions  have  been  itinerating  recently  with 
telling  advantages  to  both.  Our  Columbia  College  has  moved 
out  in  the  suburbs  of  the  capital  city,  occupying  grounds 
beautiful  for  situation.  The  buildings  are  a  beauty  and  a 
joy  forever.  The  president  says  the  new  buildings  are 
unrivaled  in  the  South  for  their  purpose,  and  that  "it  is  a 
place  in  which  to  live  and  learn."  This  president  is  the 
same  as  of  yore — just  a  little  older  than  he  was,  but  there 
is  as  much  sunshine  in  his  soul  today  as  ever  before.  When 
in  repose  he  is  dignified  enough,  but  he  has  a  laugh  that  is 
catching — it  makes  you  laugh,  too.  The  Lander  College 
moved  down  to  Greenwood  from  Williamston,  where  the  noble 
founder  gave  the  best  years  of  his  useful  life  to  the  cause 
of  Christian  education.  The  college  is  well  equipped  and 
occupies  a  beautiful  site  in  a  campus  of  eighteen  acres,  in 

6 


Letter  to  President  John  Kilgo. 

one  of  the  most  progressive  cities  of  upper  Carolina.  The 
genial  and  courtly  president  seems  to  be  as  much  at  home  as 
the  president  of  a  college  as  he  was  when  in  charge  of  a 
pastorate,  or  presiding  elder  of  a  district.  Wofford  is 
growing.  There  matriculated  last  session  in  the  Fitting 
School  and  college  proper  468  students.  Dr.  Snyder  is 
fluent  in  speech,  affable  in  manner,  and  there  is  so  much 
sound  sentiment  in  him  that  a  hopeful  and  fortunate  mag- 
netism emanates  from  his  personality  which  wins  the  hearts 
of  the  youth  of  the  land.  I  could  write  pages  about  Wofford, 
but  must  desist.  But  can  you  mention  Wofford  without 
naming  another?  Can  you  think  of  Wofford' s  bright  future 
and  leave  out  a  name  that  has  been  so  closely  connected  with 
the  college's  character  and  greatness  for  over  half  a  century  ? 
For  years  he  has  toiled,  until  now,  when  he  is  becoming  weary 
and  worn.  The  welfare  of  the  Christian  institution  over 
which  he  presided  so  long  has  ever  been  as  dear  to  him  as  the 
"ruddy  drops  that  visit"  his  great  heart.  Old  age  is  creep- 
ing on.  The  elasticity  of  step  is  not  as  apparent  now  as  it 
was  formerly,  and  the  volume  of  a  remarkably  penetrating 
voice  is  not  as  strong  as  of  yore.  Calm,  complacent,  cheer- 
ful, he  is  resting  in  a  sweet  shadowy  eventide  of  a  glorious 
day.  Thousands  today  thank  God  for  the  exalted  character 
and  the  undying  influence  of  the  spotless  life  of  James  H. 
Carlisle. 

The  general  religious  condition  of  the  Church  in  South 
Carolina  is  not  discouraging,  and,  indeed,  looking  at  one 
side  of  the  question,  taking  one  viewpoint,  the  present 
situation  and  the  outlook  exhilarates,  presenting  prospects 
pleasing. 

The  membership  reported  at  the  Laurens  Conference  in 
1894,  when  you  was  transferred,  was  71,377.  At  the  Con- 
ference in  1906  the  report  was  83,597 — a  gain  of  12,200. 
The  number  of  pastoral  charges  in  1894  was  193 ;  there  were 
reported  in  1906,  230.     Eighty-three  new  parsonages  have 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

been  erected  during  the  last  twelve  years,  and  the  people  are 
paying  the  preacher  more  than  formerly.  The  average  sal- 
ary for  the  193  pastors  in  1894  was  $622 ;  the  average  salary 
paid  the  230  in  1906  was  $700 — a  good  commendable  aver- 
age; but  we  should  do  better.  The  right  figure  has  not  yet 
been  reached.  It  is  far  more  expensive  to  Hve  now,  1907, 
than  in  1904,  Grits,  gravy  and  ginghams  have  all  gone  up, 
and  don't  average  as  low  as  they  did  years  ago.  About  half 
the  preachers  half  the  time  are  "hard  up,"  and  the  other  half 
live  decently  and  in  order,  but  in  meeting  financial  exactions 
of  the  day  and  the  obligations  of  the  fads  and  fashions  of  the 
times,  to  a  righteous  and  reasonable  degree,  they  have  little 
or  nothing  "laid  up  for  a  rainy  day"  or  dreary  old  age.  The 
modern  itinerant  must  give  his  children  the  best  possible  edu- 
cational advantages,  and  he  and  family  cannot  afford  to  be 
ostracized  from  the  social-elect  functions  on  account  of  shoddy 
gowns  or  defective  gear. 

With  reference  to  progress  in  piety  of  our  dear  people,  as 
to  the  spiritual  excellency  of  the  twelve  thousand  gain,  and  all 
the  other  thousands,  I  cannot  write  definitely,  nor  with  entire 
satisfaction.  One  thing  I  know — we  are  growing  in  morality 
and  enlightened  civilization.  South  CaroUna  now  is  almost 
a  prohibition  State  as  regards  the  selling  of  beverages  that 
intoxicate.  The  drinking  of  spirituous  liquors  continues 
more  or  less,  but  it  is  not  so  conspicuous  as  a  few  years  ago. 
The  society  gentleman  with  a  thirst  for  dram  takes  to  his 
eggnog  and  punch-bowl  in  his  drawing  room,  while  the  second 
and  third  class  gentlemen,  of  the  same  faith  and  order,  take 
their  jug  from  the  express  office,  where  there  is  no  dispensary, 
and  indulges  at  home  and  sleep  it  away  at  leisure.  The 
people  are  growing  in  refinement,  and  the  aesthetic  taste  is 
more  cultivated  and  more  plainly  exemplified  than  ever  before. 
There  never  were  in  our  rural  sections  better  kept  homes  and 
housekeepers.  Giood  cooks,  open-hearted  hospitality,  car- 
pets, enameled  iron  bedsteads,  geranium  pots  and  pits,  the 

8 


Letter  to  President  John  Kilgo. 

bathrooms,  the  flower  gardens  abound  even  in  distant  com- 
munities— the  backwoods  of  the  land  a  few  years  ago.  But 
to  say  the  least,  genuine  old  time  religion  does  not  abound  in 
the  way  it  formerly  prevailed.  Among  many  of  our  believers, 
although  associated  with  a  reverent  spirit  and  loyalty  to  the 
Church,  there  is  apparently  a  lack  of  fei'vency  of  the 
religious  spirit  and  a  lack  of  a  consciousness  of  God.  I  have 
not  heard  a  real  live  shout  of  triumph  from  a  saint  in  the 
pew  in  seven  years. 

Without  further  remarks  or  speculation  on  this  point,  I 
might  well  devote  a  page  or  more  of  notes  and  notions  in 
regard  to  the  basis  of  irreligion  and  forgetfuhiess  of  God  of 
our  people.  I  mention  first,  worldly  prosperity.  Many  of 
our  loyal  laymen  are  increasing  fast  in  worldly  riches.  They 
are  tearing  down  the  old  barns  and  are  building  more  com- 
modious ones  to  hold  their  increasing  possessions,  and  are 
largely  catering  to  the  sensual  and  selfish,  saying,  "Soul,  take 
thine  ease;  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for  many  years." 
Poor  folks,  religiously  inclined,  will  listen  with  pleasure  and 
meekness  to  the  preached  word  on  the  providence  of  God,  and 
"Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom,  and  all  things  shall  be  added," 
and  they  also  will  sing  with  the  spirit  and  understanding  such 
old  hymns  as  "How  finm  a  foundation,  ye  saints  of  the  Lord," 
but  the  other  sort,  being  haughty  and  proud  from  their  inde- 
pendence, are  not  moved  by  these  things.  Their  kingdom  is 
of  this  world;  their  providences  are  in  earthly  treasures,  and 
their  "firm  foundation"  is  deposited  in  banks.  It  is  a  fact, 
as  a  rule,  a  man  of  much  money  lacks  in  genuine  godliness. 
There  are  exceptions,  I  am  glad  to  note.  Not  long  since  I 
met  a  man  of  might  in  the  commercial  world  in  a  private  con- 
versation, who  conversed  with  pleasure  and  in  the  spirit,  on 
faith,  present  salvation  and  the  glorious  immortality.  He  is 
a  citizen  of  the  Old  North  State,  a  friend  of  Trinity,  a  good 
Methodist  worth  about  a  round  million,  and  a  seeker  after 
God.     Such  cases  are  few,  I  fear,  and  far  between.     As  a 

9 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

general  inile,  it  is  difficult  to  persuade  a  sleek,  slick  Methodist, 
enjoying  liis  thousands  a  year,  to  believe  in  the  love,  joy  and 
peace  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  that  life  does  not  consist  in  the 
abundance  of  things  which  a  man  posesses.  "But  Jeshurun 
waxed  fat  and  kicked;  then  he  forsook  the  God  which  made 
him,  and  lightly  esteemed  the  Rock  of  his  salvation." 

All  animal  natures  are  pretty  much  alike — there  is  same- 
ness of  spirit  that  worketh  all  in  all.  Possibly  you  remember 
"Dash."  You  rode  behind  him  more  than  once.  When  I 
came  in  possession  of  that  horse  he  was  as  meek  and  humble 
a  horse  as  ever  shuffled  over  the  vales  and  hills  of  South 
Carolina.  He  manifested  such  a  gentle,  dependent  spirit 
that  any  lady  could  drive  him,  and  a  child  could  lead  him.  He 
was  poor  in  the  spirit,  and  so  poverty-stricken  in  the  flesh 
that  he  had  attained  that  alarming  condition  known  as  the 
"hidebound."  For  several  days  and  Sabbaths  after  the  pur- 
chase I  would  not  use  Dash.  He  was  so  bony  and  his 
leanness  was  so  conspicuous  that  I  feared  his  appearance 
might  somewhat  disturb  Sabbath  meditations  of  my  con- 
gregation. To  relieve  the  hidebound  situation,  in  appearance 
at  least,  I  greased  Dash  all  over  with  lard !  I  gave  the  horse 
the  best  of  attention,  liis  food  was  the  best  obtainable,  and  the 
grooming  was  perfectly  done.  Not  many  months  passed 
before  Dash  began  to  improve  rapidly  and  hold  his  head  high. 
A  little  over  a  year  afterwards,  at  times  he  became  difficult 
to  hold,  and  almost  unmanageable — ran  away  on  one  occasion. 
He  seemed  to  see  visions,  and  would  dart  away  and  snort.  On 
one  occasion,  going  up  a  mountain  side  in  Oconee,  in  the  full- 
ness of  his  pride  and  strength,  Dash  became  perverse,  shied, 
reared  and  jumped  down  into  a  ravine  fifteen  or  twenty  feet 
deep,  with  many  bruises.  Prosperity  and  providential  kind 
treatment  came  near  being  the  iniin  of  Dash.  So  thus  saith 
the  Lord:  "According  to  their  pasture  so  were  they  filled; 
they  were  filled,  and  their  heart  was  exalted ;  therefore  have 
they  forgotten  Me." 

10 


Letter  to  President  John  Kilgo. 

There  is  another  basis  of  irrehgion  evident  among  some  of 
the  people  I  will  note,  and  this  apphes  not  so  much  to  the 
refined,  cultured  and  prosperous  crowd  as  it  does  to  those  who 
are  governed  mostly  by  their  emotional  natures  and  sensual 
appetites.  They  are  irreligious  because  the  "Master  delayeth 
His  coming."  They  will  not  be  called  to  account  yet  awhile. 
They  glory  in  health,  strong  digestion  and  a  good  appetite 
with  an  abundance  with  which  to  satiate.  I  have  rarely 
found  a  sinner  impenitent  when  disease  had  a  good  grip  on 
him  and  he  was  about  half  dead.  He  is  generally  ready  to 
confess  his  sins  then  and  be  received  into  the  Church,  or  recant 
his  backshdings.  I  have  never  seen  a  sinner  that  would  fail 
to  call  upon  the  Lord  when  in  imminent  danger  of  instant 
death. 

South  Carolina,  I  fear,  will  not  have  an  universal  awaken- 
ing from  the  mountain  to  the  sea  until  we  have  some  horrible 
calamities,  or  another  terrifying  earthquake.  Then  there 
will  be  a  rush  made  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  You  remember 
August  31,  1886,  when  we  had  a  mighty  shaking  of  the  earth, 
how,  throughout  the  land,  sinners  mourned,  altars  were 
crowded  and  penitents  by  the  thousands  were  converted.  The 
largest  gain  in  the  history  of  the  Church  in  South  Carolina 
in  membership  was  reahzed  that  year.  There  were  about 
10,000  converts  received  into  the  Church  and  a  clear  net  gain 
reported  at  Conference  of  nearly  8,000.  I  am  not  disposed 
to  minify  those  conversions — many  have  been  faithful — but  I 
am  drawing  attention  to  the  widespread  influence  of  the 
earthquake.  Here  it  is  in  a  nutshell:  "Because  sentence 
against  an  evil  work  is  not  executed  speedily,  therefore  the 
heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil."  We 
are  preaching  too  much,  I  suspect,  on  the  line  of  moral  suasion 
and  are  not  stressing  as  we  should  the  terrors  of  the  Lord  and 
the  consequences,  in  this  life  and  the  next,  of  the  violated  law 
of  God.  I  do  not  remember  so  well  the  parts  of  the  sermon 
of  the  late  Bishop  Tigert,  pi-eached  at  a  session  of  our  Con- 

11 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

f erence  held  in  Columbia,  but  I  haven't  forgotten  his  words  of 
introduction.  He  preached  on  the  punishment  of  the  wicked. 
"The  time  has  come,"  said  he,  "when  one  must  apologize,  it 
seems,  for  preaching  on  the  eternal  punishment  of  the  doomed 
and  damned." 

********* 

I  purpose  issuing  this  fall,  about  the  time  of  the  first  big 
frost,  a  publication  to  be  known  as  "The  Circuit  Rider's 
Sketch  Book."  The  book  will  contain  not  a  few  choice  clip- 
pings from  other  original  publications  printed  in  the  days 
that  are  gone,  consisting  of  short  articles  and  pen  paragraphs 
that  may  be  worth  publishing  again,  and,  since  May  of  this 
year,  at  odd  hours  and  leisure  moments,  I  have  written  many 
pages  on  miscellaneous  matters,  and  on  subjects  that  im- 
pressed me  during  my  career.  I  deal  more  in  character  than 
in  creed,  and  I  delight  in  applauding  sincerity  of  heart  and 
exposing  the  ways  that  are  dark.  There  will  be  found 
ideas,  items  and  incidents,  and  figures  and  facts  without 
fiction,  and  fiction  as  true  as  facts.  On  account  of  its  faults 
and  shortcomings  it  will  be  an  excellent  publication  for  the 
shafts  of  criticism,  but  I  trust  all  smart  folks  will  be  as  lenient 
as  possible,  and  should  I  ever  essay  again  I  will  strive  to  do 
better  and  win  their  well  done  at  last.  I  crave  an  intro- 
ductory letter  from  your  pen  and  heart.  You  once  did  travel 
the  rounds,  and  you  are  acquainted  with  the  tears,  trials  and 
triumphs  of  the  itinerant  preacher,  and  I  want  you  in  this 
book,  too,  because  you  are  the  son  of  an  old  Circuit  Rider, 
deceased,  whose  life  was  a  benediction  to  Church  and  State, 
and  whose  cherished  memory  is  an  inspiration. 
Affectionately  yours, 

E.  Alston  Wilkes. 


12 


The  Response. 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Response. 

President's  Office,  Trinity  College, 
Durham,  N.  C,  September  18,  1907. 

My  Dear  Brother  Wilkes :  I  heartily  appreciate  the  honor 
you  have  done  me  in  acquainting  me  with  your  purpose  to 
celebrate  the  heroic  virtues  of  some  of  the  departed  members 
of  the  South  Carolina  Conference.  I  shall  wait  the  coming 
of  "The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book"  with  high  expecta- 
tions. Your  genius  of  insight  into  human  nature  and  its 
power  of  judging  between  the  essential  and  the  incidental, 
united  with  your  art  of  tersely  stating  facts,  eminently  fit  you 
for  such  an  undertaking.  Added  to  these,  and  better  than 
they  are,  is  that  deep  sympathy  of  soul  which  easily  gives 
you  fellowship  with  good  and  true  men,  adding  a  double 
charm  to  your  portrayals  of  character. 

I  have  read  your  letter  with  deep  interest.  Yet  I  must 
acknowledge  that  a  peculiar  sadness  came  to  me  as  I  thought 
of  the  past  and  my  associations  with  the  old  South  Carolina 
Conference.  Within  one  of  its  little  parsonages,  on  Monday, 
July  22,  1861,  when  the  smokes  of  the  first  battle  of  Manassas 
were  floating  over  the  bloody  fields  along  Bull  Run,  I  came 
into  the  world.  Among  the  good  fortunes  which  Pro\adence 
has  mercifully  bestowed  on  me,  I  have  always  counted  my  birth 
in  a  Methodist  circuit  parsonage  among  the  richest  and  most 
honorable.  It  is  the  home  of  the  ambassador  of  God,  the 
highest  office  among  men.  By  the  side  of  the  Methodist  par- 
sonage the  legations  of  earthly  empires  shrink  into  small 
proportions  of  dignity  and  honor.  To  the  ambassador  of 
God  is  committed  the  ministry  of  reconciliation  of  man  to 
God,  and  among  men  and  angels  this  is  the  highest  office  to 
which  creatures  may  be  appointed.     It  was  in  one  of  these 

13 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

legations  I  was  bom.  So  my  well-proven  claims  to  high  birth 
rest  upon  the  membership  of  my  father  and  mother  in 
heavenly  courts.  This  I  assert  is  the  only  genuine  aris- 
tocrac}'. 

I  grew  up  in  the  Methodist  itinerancy.  I  am  well 
acquainted  with  all  its  experiences,  I  have  never  been  able 
to  recall  the  many  hardships  which  men  of  more  recent  times 
find  in  it.  As  a  boy  I  seemed  to  get  all  that  was  justly  due 
me.  And  when  I  came  to  manhood  and  had  the  honor  of  a 
call  into  this  Methodist  ministry,  I  went  to  my  task  with 
enthusiasm  and  steady  assurance.  Through  the  years  of  my 
life  God  has  shown  Himself  the  friend  of  the  faithful  Metho- 
dist preacher.  And  those  who  seem  to  be  most  pestered  about 
their  welfare  have  always  impressed  me  as  being  self-pestered. 
We  are  the  heirs  of  a  rich  history — rich  in  all  the  noblest 
virtues  that  give  immortal  glory  to  human  character.  But 
above  this  we  are  the  heirs  of  an  unanswerable  logic  that 
proves  that  God  is  with,  and  will  protect,  His  ministry.  No 
man  has  ever  starved  who  had  his  bread  in,  "What  amount 
has  been  raised  the  present  quarter  for  the  support  of  the 
ministry,  and  how  has  it  been  applied.''''  I  had  as  soon  risk 
my  bread  on  that  question  as  to  have  risked  it  in  the  widow's 
barrel  at  Zarephath. 

Besides,  I  have  been  constantly  impressed  with  the  many 
enterprises  of  the  most  vital  sort  that  have  been  pro j  ected  and 
successfully  executed  on  the  returns  of  that  eighth  question 
in  the  Quarterly  Conference.  Gold  mines  have  not  such  a 
record  to  their  credit.  The  Methodist  preacher  has  never 
sent  an  illiterate  cliild  on  society,  nor  has  he  ever  lacked  a 
sufficiency  to  rightly  perform  the  high  tasks  of  fatherhood 
to  his  children.  I  had  the  best  opportunity  to  observe  the 
working  out  of  these  problems  of  paternal  duty  with  the 
income  from  a  trust  in  God  and  the  returns  of  the  quarterly 
meeting.  I  know  of  no  other  interpretation  that  so  fully 
explains  and  illustrates,  "Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God 

14 


The  Response. 

and  His  righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  unto 
you,"  as  the  liistory  of  the  faithful  Methodist  itinerant. 

My  child  life  and  the  years  of  my  young  manhood  were 
spent  in  the  fellowships  of  the  old  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence. There  I  made  my  first  friends,  built  up  my  first 
influences,  fixed  my  first  ideals,  and  chose  ray  first  heroes. 
The  bonds  of  these  things  have  never  been  broken.  I  have 
earnestly  tried  to  dismiss  them  from  my  mind,  but  they  persist 
in  remaining.  So  when  I  read  down  your  roll  of  the  saintly 
men  who  were  my  heroes  or  my  companions  just  a  Httle  more 
than  twelve  years  ago,  and  who  have  joined  the  hosts  on  high, 
there  came  to  me  a  sense  of  indescribable  loneliness.  The 
great  forest  in  wliich  I  built  my  first  little  abiding  place  has 
been  hewed  down  by  the  years,  and  nearly  all  the  great  trees 
are  gone.  The  world  seems  to  be  loosening  its  grasp  on  me. 
My  mind  is  going  out  beyond  its  borders  and  having  associa- 
tions out  there  where  so  many  have  gone.  When  you  South 
CaroHna  preachers  take  account  of  your  assets,  you  will  have 
a  tremendous  balance  of  faith  and  heroism  in  your  favor. 
And  you  do  all  a  service  by  sending  out  this  twelve-year 
report. 

What  you  say  of  the  progress  made  during  these  twelve 
years  past  is  inspiring.  It  shows  that  there  is  still  sanctified 
energy  and  wisdom  in  the  old  Conference.  Men  have  not 
labored  in  vain,  nor  have  earnest  prayers  been  turned  away 
from  the  throne  of  the  great  High  Priest.  New  pastoral 
charges,  new  parsonages,  new  church  buildings,  larger  assess- 
ments, more  culture,  higher  standards  of  education,  better 
educational  equipments,  increase  in  membership  of  the 
churches,  and  all  other  things  that  may  be  put  in  the  column 
of  progress,  are  unmistakable  proofs  of  activity.  But,  as 
you  say,  there  are  some  other  things  even  more  vital  than  all 
these.  A  steady  devotion  of  heart  and  loyalty  of  will  to 
God  must  have  the  primacy  in  all  Christian  living  and  work. 
To  have  fellowship  with  each  other  because  our  fellowship  is 

15 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

with  the  Father,  and  with  His  Son  Jesus  Christ,  is  the  thing 
of  chiefest  worth. 

You  refer  in  your  letter  to  a  "lack  of  consciousness  of 
God,"  and  in  this  you  touch  the  main  point  in  the  theology  of 
the  old  Methodist  preacher.  To  him  religion  was  not  a 
metaphysical  problem.  God  was  not  a  proposition  to  be 
verified  by  speculative  reasoning.  These  men  had  no  marked 
genius  for  such  intellectual  entertainment.  God  was  verified 
to  them  as  an  indubitable  experience.  His  holiness  came  to 
them  as  a  terrible  conviction  of  sin,  having  its  climax  in  a 
hearty  repentance  and  an  unreserved  dedication  of  life.  His 
mercy  was  not  symbolized  to  them  through  altars  and  rituals. 
It  was  asserted  in  them  as  a  joy  and  peace  of  a  relieved  con- 
science. He  came  to  them  as  inner  light,  as  an  inspiration, 
as  an  assurance,  as  a  power  of  soul,  as  a  courage  that  dared 
all  things,  as  a  fellowship,  and  as  an  earnest  expectation  of 
the  sons  of  God.  Their  chief  philosophy  of  the  atonement 
was  in  the  experience  of  a  crucifixion  to  the  world.  "God  in 
you"  was  the  sum  of  all  they  had  to  tell  men. 

And  I  confess  that  I  stand  by  their  theology.  It  may  be 
lacking  in  the  veneerings  of  progressive  scholarship ;  it  may 
be  much  out  of  harmony  with  the  facts  of  latest  archaeological 
and  ethnological  discoveries ;  it  may  have  but  humble  standing 
among  the  learned,  and  its  reputation  in  the  academic  world 
may  be  unfortunate;  but  it  brings  forgiveness  of  sins  and, 
with  me,  this  is  the  main  thing.  They  had  a  theology,  and 
what  was  notably  conspicuous  about  them,  they  firmly  believed 
it.  Their  preaching  was  not  an  ingenuous  entertainment  of 
the  saints  with  curious  puzzles,  it  was  rather  a  yea  and  a  nay 
deliverance  of  the  Word  of  Almighty  God.  Theological 
logomachy  was  not  in  great  favor  among  them.  I  have 
heard  them  declare  with  the  note  of  eternal  authority  in  their 
voices  the  message  of  God  to  the  multitudes  who  came  out  to 
hear  them,  and  I  have  heard  them  plead  God's  mercy  for  the 
broken-hearted  penitent,  and  in  it  all  there  was  a  something 

16 


The  Response. 

that  made  them  terrible.  They  prayed  not  because  it  was  a 
good  exercise  for  the  cultivation  of  the  devotional  qualities, 
but  because  they  were  ovenvhelmed  with  sore  needs  and  God 
was  their  only  source  of  supply.  And  whatever  may  be  the 
final  conclusion  among  the  academic  men  as  to  the  subjective 
and  the  objective  value  of  prayer,  they  got  answers  which  no 
man  could  doubt,  and  they  won  victories  which  no  human 
philosophy  can  explain.  Did  you  ever  hear  Paul  Kistler  and 
Wesley  Pegues  pray  for  a  crowded  altar  of  penitents.?  With 
what  bold  authority  they  came  to  God,  with  what  persistency 
they  urged  their  cause,  with  what  tremendous  logic  they 
argued  their  question,  and  with  what  irresistible  faith  they 
took  hold  of  omnipotence.  They  called  it  besieging  the 
throne,  an  expression  that  always  marked  an  invincible 
quality  and  an  awful  moment  of  faith. 

Perhaps  the  traditional  theology  is  not  in  keeping  with  the 
new  order  of  modern  progress.  However  advanced  theology 
should  vindicate  its  rights  to  the  patronage  of  the  faith  in 
the  saints  by  a  fuller  and  a  steadier  consciousness  of  God, 
it  should  not  be  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  paganisms  have 
been  rich  in  theologies,  and  that  idols  hae  been  worshipped 
after  the  manner  of  beautiful  and  rich  rituals.  A  theology 
that  has  its  consummation  in  human  culture  and  social  refine- 
ments has  nothing  to  boast  of  more  than  many  dead  pagan- 
isms could  yet  teach  them  in.  The  best  temples  of  the  earth 
were  thrones  of  ugly  idols,  and  the  most  glorious  architecture 
and  sculpture  and  painting  have  been  employed  to  do  honor 
to  the  vulgarities  of  heathenisms.  The  queen  of  the  most 
pretentious  social  circles,  adorned  with  all  the  rich  jewels  that 
merchants  have  brought  over  the  seas,  may  have  a  feeble  heart 
or  be  the  victim  of  a  fatal  germ.  The  color  of  sound  health 
on  the  cheek  can  never  be  excelled  by  the  arts  of  created 
beauty.  So  after  all  Methodism  needs  to  look  well  to  the 
inner  life  of  its  people,  keeping  itself  constantly  reminded 

17 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

that  while  material  achievemnts  may  mean  material  advance, 
they  may  not  mean  spiritual  advance. 

But  lest  I  weary  you  with  my  much  saying  of  commonplace 
things,  I  shall  close  this  letter.  I  assure  you  of  my  sincerest 
interest  in  your  undertaking,  and,  with  your  many  other 
friends,  I  feel  certain  that  you  will  render  us  all  a  lasting 
service.  I  often  recall  the  many  associations  we  had  in  the 
j^ears  gone  by,  and  enjoy  living  over  in  mind  those  helpful 
companionships.  Both  of  us  have  passed  the  half-way  point 
in  our  journey ;  we  have  given  out  the  vigor  of  bounding 
youth  to  our  tasks ;  we  still  have  some  of  the  strength  of  man- 
hood to  invest ;  and  it  may  be  that  the  wisdom  of  old  age  may 
be  given  us  to  administer;  and  if  this  be  so,  may  we  both  do 
well  all  that  remains  for  us  to  do  and,  perhaps,  the  memory 
of  us  will  help  some  young  brother  when  he  comes  along  this 
way,  just  as  the  memory  of  our  fathers  now  helps  us. 
Yours  affectionately, 

Jno.  C.  Kilg0. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Where  to  Find  Heaven. 

Real  religious  joy  and  gladness  of  heart  does  not  come  to 
the  soul  as  the  result  of  special  prayer,  nor  is  the  "peace  that 
passeth  all  understanding"  given  simply  for  the  asking.  It 
is  as  unreasonable  for  the  do-nothing  Christian  to  look  for 
the  realization  of  uplifting  and  holy  emotion  and  the  power 
of  God,  without  "doing  the  will  of  the  Father,"  as  for  the 
worldly-minded  man  to  expect  honest  riches  to  come  without 
exertion,  trouble  and  daily  toil.  "No  cross,  no  crown"  is 
exemplified  in  all  sorts  of  earthly  realms  where  there  is  any 
sort  of  cross  to  bear  and  a  crown  to  win.  Religious  joy  and 
heavenly  mindedness  are  effects.  In  Christian  philosophy, 
where  conditions   are  fulfilled,   soul  blessings  will  inevitably 

18 


Where  to  Find  Heaven. 

follow.  A  man  can  be  orthodox  and  moral  and  exemplary  in 
outward  conduct,  and  be  far  from  experiencing  the  peace  of 
piety  and  the  genuine  glow  of  the  "love  shed  abroad  in  the 
heart."  Our  happiness  in  this  life  depends  upon  our  doing 
good  to  others  and  living  for  others.  As  a  man  thus  sows 
so  shall  he  also  reap.  Sunshine  will  come  to  your  own  heart 
if  by  kind  words  and  good  deeds  you  throw  the  sunshine  of 
smile,  cheer  and  comfort  in  the  gloomy  pathway  of  others. 
"He  went  about  doing  good."  I  was  impressed  by  the  follow- 
ing incident  clipped  from  the  Southwestern  Presbyterian: 

There  was  a  Methodist  minister  who  preached  one  day  on 
heaven.  The  next  morning  he  was  going  down  town  and  he 
met  one  of  his  old  wealthy  members.     This  old  friend  said: 

"Pastor,  you  preached  a  good  sermon  about  heaven.  You 
told  me  all  about  heaven,  but  you  never  told  me  where 
heaven  is." 

"Ah!"  said  the  pastor,  "I  am  glad  of  the  opportunity  this 
morning.  "  I  have  just  come  in  from  the  hill-top  yonder.  In 
that  cottage  there  is  a  member  of  your  church.  She  is  sick 
in  bed  with  fever ;  her  two  little  children  are  sick  in  the  other 
bed,  and  she  has  not  got  a  bit  of  coal,  or  a  stick  of  wood,  or 
flour,  or  sugar,  or  any  bread.  If  you  will  go  down  town  and 
buy  fifty  dollars'  worth  of  things,  nice  provisions  and  send 
them  up  to  her,  and  then  go  up  there  and  say,  'My  sister,  I 
have  brought  you  these  nice  provisions  in  the  name  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour.'  You  ask  for  a  Bible,  and  you  read  the 
twenty-third  Psalm,  and  you  then  get  down  on  your  knees 
and  pray.  If  you  don't  see  heaven  before  you  get  all 
through,  I'll  pay  the  bill." 

The  next  morning  he  said :  "Pastor,  I  saw  heaven ;  and  I 
spent  fifteen  minutes  in  heaven  as  certain  as  you  are 
listening." 


19 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Housekeeper  Wanted. 

I  notice  in  the  Christian  Advocate  (Nashville)  the  follow- 
ing advertisement,  inserted  by  the  president  of  a  "male" 
college : 

"Wanted — A  sanctified  woman  for  housekeeper  in  Merid- 
ian Male  College.     One  without  children  preferred." 

The  woman,  it  seems,  is  "wanted"  to  look  after  the  bed 
and  bedding;  and  the  baking  of  bread  must  have  a  special 
type  of  religion — a  peculiar  version  of  the  converted  life, 
having  inward  marks,  often  attended  by  many  holy  outward 
exclamations.  This  is  an  unusual  advertisement.  What  the 
Meridian  Male  College  really  needs  is  a  business  woman- 
housekeeper  who  has  a  place  for  forks,  dishpans,  can-openers, 
table  linen,  et  cetera,  and  keep  the  forks,  dishpans,  can- 
openers,  table  linen  and  the  et  ceteras  in  their  places  decently 
and  in  order.  The  college  wants  a  clever,  clean  cook  in  the 
housekeeper,  who  knows  how  to  bake  and  brown  and  under- 
stands the  art  of  making  savory  soups  and  stews.  What  is 
wanted,  again,  is  a  housekeeper  who  has  a  conscientious  loath- 
ing for  dirt  and  dust  in  the  sleeping  apartments,  and  who 
strives  to  keep  the  beds  well  aired  and  free  from  all  those 
live  things — frequently  found  in  college  dormitories — that  do 
creep.     It  is  really  a  risky  ad. 

The  "sanctified  woman  without  children"  may  turn  up  and 
appear  before  the  honorable  faculty  and  be  accepted,  but  she 
may  not  have  the  essential  qualities  of  a  good  and  safe  house- 
keeper. She  may  have  the  required  profession  of  piety 
without  the  power  of  handling  the  pots  and  ovens  for  roasting 
"rations"  skillfully.  Her  precious  soul  may  have  attained 
the  state  called  "sanctified,"  but  she  may  be  one  of  those 
unfortunate  persons  who  let  hair  get  into  the  butter.     She 


Death  and  Burial  Before  the  Time. 

may  be  a  "praise  the  Lord"  woman  all  the  day  long  and  let 
the  "chinches"  bite  the  boys  in  bed. 

One  thing  might  be  emphasized — poorly  cooked  food  and  a 
slovenly  kept  house  is  a  most  unsanctified  situation,  regardless 
of  the  professed  sanctifiedness  of  the  housekeeper. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Death  and  Burial  Before  the  Time. 

There  are  living,  unless  they  have  died  recently,  in  Marl- 
boro County,  a  strangely  death-betrothed  couple.  They  are 
very  old  people,  man  and  wife,  who,  in  view  of  dissolution,  and 
I  hope,  of  heaven,  too,  have  made  ready  their  tombs  and  have 
erected  the  monumental  marble  at  their  graves,  leaving  blank 
places  for  date  of  death.  Upon  the  completion  of  the  tombs 
and  monument  in  the  spring  of  1906  appropriate  services 
were  solemnly  held.  A  lawyer  of  felicitous  speech  and  some 
sentiment  was  selected  by  the  aged  pair  to  do  the  funeralizing, 
which  he  did  in  a  befitting  manner,  in  the  presence  of  a  large 
crowd  of  friends,  relatives  and  other  "mourners."  The 
"lamented"  old  people,  it  is  reported,  enjoyed  the  burial 
serv'ice  and  funeral  oration,  and  returned  to  their  homes, 
doubtless  much  pleased  with  prospects  of  soon  becoming 
tenants  of  their  tombs. 

The  cool  businesslike  way  of  preparing  with  painstaking 
care  casket  and  cerements  for  the  body,  in  case  of  death,  is 
not  generally  observed.  Here  and  there  in  the  land  among 
the  multitude  you  will  run  across  this  peculiar  phenomenon, 
but  the  personal  grave-undertaking  enterprise  is  indulged  in 
by  few  of  the  mortals  who  are  bom  to  die.  I  knew  a  dear 
Christian  old  lady  who  had  her  coffin  garments  all  nicely 
made  up  and  prepared  twenty-two  years  ago  when  she  was 
about  sixty  years  of  age.      She  lived  to  see  this  year  of  1907, 

21 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

dying  in  the  faith  at  82.  The  other  day  I  visited  an  aged 
gentleman  who  had  been  in  ill  health  for  some  time.  Said 
he:  "Well,  sir,  I  have  my  box  now  prepared  in  which  I  will 
be  placed  when  I  am  gone.  I  think  it  will  fit  all  right.  I 
would  have  gotten  in  it  the  other  day  at  the  shop  just  to  see 
if  it  were  comfortable,  but  my  rheumatism  would  not  let  me." 
He  is  about  the  age  of  the  sister  mentioned  above  who  died 
at  82.  At  this  writing.  May  31st,  his  physical  condition  is 
much  improved,  and  many  sincerely  wish  that  it  may  be  a  long 
time  ere  the  pine  coffin  will  be  taken  from  its  place  in  the  barn 
and  used  to  hold  the  remains  of  an  aged  man  who  evidently  is 
ready  to  die. 


CHAPTER  \T. 

''Heading  Off  a  Negro  College." 

Much  good,  bad  and  indifferent  literature  has  been  pub- 
lished recently  with  reference  to  the  race  question,  or  rather 
the  negro  question.  The  situation  grows  in  interest  with  the 
passing  days.  Besides  the  usual  lynching  excursions  now  and 
then,  of  which  we  read,  there  are  other  conflicts  here  and  there 
between  the  white  man  and  the  darkey.  The  latter  gets  in 
the  way,  the  former  desires  him  to  step  aside,  and  he  will  not 
step,  and  there  is  often  force  exercised  and  much  bad  passion 
stirred.  The  conflicts  will  likely  be  more  pronounced  after 
awhile  when  the  black  negro  occupies  the  comer-lot  and  owns 
his  phaeton  and  high-headed  team,  all  spick  and  span,  with 
possibly  a  poor  white  man  as  driver  and  coachman. 

The  negro  partakes  of  the  spirit  of  push  around  him,  and 
where  he  is  intelligent  enough  to  be  appreciative  he  ener- 
getically enters  pleas  for  progress.  This  day,  June  10th,  I 
am  impresesd  with  the  following  headlines  in  The  State, 
Columbia,  and  the  communication  from  the  correspondent  of 
that  paper  in  Spartanburg: 

22 


"Heading  Off  a  Negro  College." 

"Spartanburg  Men  Buy  Land 

TO  Head  Off  Negro  College. 

"Spartanburg,  June  9. — To  prevent  the  establishment  at 
Cherokee  Springs  of  a  large  industrial  school  for  negroes,  a 
party  of  citizens  residing  in  that  section  of  the  county  have 
purchased  the  property  from  Mr.  John  D.  Humphreys,  of 
this  city.  The  following  will  compose  the  company :  Dr.  J. 
L.  Wofford,  John  and  A.  G.  Harris,  J.  R.  Foster,  J.  M. 
Foster,  J.  R.  Easier,  A.  Crocker,  B.  O.  Turner,  M.  N. 
Turner,  J.  M.  Wofford  and  Mr.  Teal. 

"The  purchasers  of  the  property  live  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Cherokee  Springs,  and  are  among  the  best  known  and  sub- 
stantial citizens  of  the  county.  It  is  not  known  what  improve- 
ments will  be  made  on  the  hotel  and  springs,  though  it  is 
understood  just  as  soon  as  the  company  is  organized  extensive 
improvements  will  be  made. 

"Booker  Washington,  president  of  Tuskegee  Normal  Insti- 
tution, at  Tuskegee,  Ala.,  at  one  time  quite  recently  thought 
seriously  of  buying  the  property  from  Mr.  Humphreys  and 
erecting  a  large  college  for  colored  people.  In  fact,  it  is  said 
Washington  would  have  purchased  the  property  had  not  the 
citizens  of  Cherokee  Springs  formed  a  company  and  bought 
the  springs  and  adjoining  property." 

Why  did  those  citizens  of  Spartanburg  buy  the  land  and 
other  property.?  Simply  this:  To  prevent  the  establishment 
at  Cherokee  Springs  of  a  large  industrial  school  for  negroes. 
Who  are  those  citizens.?  Why,  among  the  best.  They  reside 
in  that  community  and  are  among  the  best  known  and  sub- 
stantial citizens  of  the  county.  Why  did  those  citizens  buy 
that  Cherokee  property  to  prevent  the  establishment  of  a 
negro  industrial  school.?  It  was  not  because  they  were 
opposed  to  an  increase  of  population,  especially  if  it  mate- 
rially added  to  the  general  trade  and  traffic  of  the  community. 
It  was  not  because  they   are  opposed  to   education,   or  the 

23 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

building  of  industrial  educational  institutions.  They  highly 
prize,  doubtless,  each  one  of  them — a  well-trained  horse  even, 
or  an  educated  dog.  They  are  enlightened  gentlemen  and 
believe  in  the  spread  of  Christian  civilization  and  the  bringing 
up  the  child  in  the  way  it  should  go,  but  it  is  apparent  thej 
do  not  believe  in  bringing  up  the  colored  youth  in  the  way 
they  should  go  at  Cherokee  Springs  by  way  of  an  industrial 
school.  They  did  not  want  in  their  midst  a  large  school  of 
Afro-Americans  "a  larnin'."  They  did  not  wish  the  imme- 
diate environment  of  colored  culture. 

They  conferred  and  concerted,  and  put  their  hands  deep 
down  in  their  pockets  and  purchased  the  land  to  "head  off  the 
negro  college.'' 

But  this  is  a  broad  land,  and  there  are  other  suitable  sites 
for  negro  colleges.  The  institution  may  be  "headed  off"  at 
Cherokee,  and  find  no  place  for  a  foundation  on  Spartanburg 
County's  soil.  What  does  that  amount  to.''  The  negro  col- 
lege will  be  built ;  the  walls  ere  long  will  arise  and  the  tall 
towers  erected  somewhere.  An  old  Quaker  sister  not  long 
since,  dying  where  the  cotton  can't  grow,  bequeathed  before 
she  flew  to  heaven  a  mint  of  money  for  the  education  of  the 
Southern  negro.  Others  will  die  and  make  their  wills,  leaving 
dollars  and  ducats  for  the  darkey. 

Really,  seriously,  long  before  that  negro  gets  the  comer- 
lot  with  the  brownstone  front,  and  the  coachman  for  hire  and 
the  turnout  all  spick  and  span,  ought  not  this  grave  question 
to  be  definitely  settled,  and  most  amicably  setttled  in  the  fear 
of  God.  The  negro's  privileges — what  must  they  be,  and 
what  they  must  not  be,  his  relationship,  his  society  standing, 
and-so-forth.  How  will  you  settle  it?  Would  it  not  be 
extremely  difficult  in  1920  for  general  society  to  convict  and 
ostracize  for  miscegenation  where  a  black-skinned  heiress  and 
a  hundred  thousand  dollars  are  involved.''  Commercialism  is 
becoming  more  and  more  soulless,  without  regard  to  condi- 
tions and  conscience.     In  a  certain  state  of  mind  and  morals 


24 


"Heading  Off  a  Negro  College." 

"money  answereth  all  things."  A  matrimonial  dower  of 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars  would  tend  to  shut  off  all  just 
prejudices  and  cover  a  vast  amount  of  racial  degradation. 
And  then — and  then.''  The  story  of  faithful  old  Abraham 
and  the  mistake  of  his  life,  which  proved,  however,  not  an 
unmixed  evil,  with  reference  to  the  Egyptian  maid,  is  full  of 
instruction  and  suggestion.  Sarah,  being  in  despair  of  hav- 
ing an  heir,  consented  as  to  Hagar,  and  Abraham  proceeded. 
Hagar,  it  is  said,  being  somewhat  exalted  in  the  social  scale, 
began  to  despise  the  old  mistress — for  which  the  former  suf- 
fered. In  course  of  human  events  Ishmael  came  upon  the 
scene.  Ere  long  he  seriously  began  to  interfere  with  young 
Isaac's  rights  and  prerogatives.  He  was  seen  even  mocking 
the  legitimate  heir.  The  proud  old  mother,  burning  with 
righteous  indignation,  told  the  husband  a  few  things,  and 
Hagar  and  the  boy  Ishmael  got  their  orders.  It  grieved 
Abraham  to  send  them  away,  but  for  the  sake  of  domestic 
peace  and  piety  the  decree  must  be  executed.  The  Lord  said 
unto  Abraham:  "In  all  that  Sarah  said  unto  thee,  hearken 
unto  her  voice."  We  have  on  hand  in  this  blessed  century  a 
powerful  progeny  which  was  bom  in  sin  and  shapened  in  the 
ungodliness  of  greed  and  gain.  The  history  of  the  begin- 
ning, growth,  development,  calamities,  recorded  on  thrilling 
pages  will  ever  be  of  absorbing  interest.  The  evolution  being 
most  favorably  conditioned,  has  steadily  progressed  unto  this 
good  day.  "According  to  their  pasture,  so  are  they  filled." 
Our  Southern  negro  Ishmael,  much  mixed,  and  here  and  there 
most  ingloriously  compounded,  but  retaining  all  inherited 
racial  conditions  and  characteristics,  is  becoming  a  serious 
problem  as  he  grows  in  strength  and  substance.  There  he 
stands,  a  big,  black  fact.  You  dare  not-  sit,  eat  and  sleep 
with  him.  You  cannot  and  would  not  appropriate  him.  You 
cannot  amalgamate  him.  What  will  you  do  with  him.''  Would 
it  not  be  best  to  let  him  go?  Let  him  depart  with  abundant 
baggage  in  Christian  peace  to  some  other  propitious  realm 

25 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

of  this  broad  earth.  There,  under  happy  skies,  let  him  colon- 
ize and  work  out  his  own  salvation  along  lines  where  the 
natural  and  favorable  circumstances  of  the  case  suggest  and 
the  God  of  Races  has  designed. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Governor's  Salary. 

Is  it  not  time  to  raise  the  Governor's  salary.?  Should  not 
the  executive  head  have  the  encouragement  and  enjoyment  of 
an  increase  in  means  and  money?  I  believe  it  is  only  $3,000 
now.  That  is  not  the  income,  in  many  instances,  of  a  clever 
professional  gentleman  of  not  extraordinary  tact  and  talent, 
and  not  a  few  artisans  and  architects,  these  days  of  much 
cash,  realize  nearly,  if  not  quite,  that  sum  in  twelve  good 
months.  Three  thousand  dollars  is  hardly  sufficient  to  main- 
tain the  Chief  Magistrate  of  South  Carolina  in  that  dignity, 
careless  ease  and  refined  exterior  which  should  characterize 
the  ways  and  walks  of  the  Governor  of  a  great  State.  Many 
States  in  America  give  their  Goevmors  $5,000  and  more. 
New  York  gives  $10,000.  Illinois  has  recently  increased 
her  Governor's  salary  to  $12,000  in  cash.  All  public 
officials  holding  great  offices  of  trust  should  be  amply  provided 
for,  and  be  so  well  supplied  in  grub  and  greenbacks  that  will 
enable  them  to  give  their  time  to  the  duties  of  their  high  call- 
ing. They  should  be  free  from  carking  cares  so  that  they 
could  concentrate  all  energies  to  their  line  of  work  for  the 
good  of  the  people  and  the  weal  of  the  commonwealth.  Solici- 
tors sometimes,  I  have  thought,  show  lack  of  intense  earnest- 
ness in  the  prosecution  of  criminals  and  in  upholding  the 
majesty  of  the  law.  They  are  not  well  paid  men,  and  to 
realize  a  sufficiency  in  shekels  they  often  have  two  or  more 
irons  in  the  fire.     Secretaries  of  State  and  State  Treasurers 

26 


The  Murdered  Wife. 

can't  well  attend  to  State  business  and  State  money  matters 
and  be  bothered  by  outside  oj)erations — those  "two  or  more 
irons  in  the  fire."  Sheriffs  generally  get  greatly  interested  in 
hunting  and  ininning  down  a  felon  when  there  is  a  big  reward 
offered  for  his  capture.  The  Chief  Magistrate  should  be  well 
clothed,  well  fed,  well  groomed,  and  be  able  to  say  to  this  one, 
"Go,  and  he  goeth,"  and  to  another,  "Come,  and  he  cometh." 
He  should  have  an  abundance  of  cash,  comforts  and  conveni- 
ences, and  be  able  to  say  to  all  sorts  of  rebate  tempters,  "Get 
behind  me,  Satan." 

Gentlemen  of  the  Legislature,  raise  your  Governor's  salary 
to  a  reasonable  and  righteous  figure.  Three  thousand  dollars 
is  not  sufficient ;  forty -five  hundred  would  not  in  this  prosper- 
ous day  be  extravagance. 


CHAPTER  VIH. 

The  Murdered  Wife. 

One  morning  of  this  past  summer  gone,  I  was  leisurely 
strolling  in  a  quiet  country  churchyard  situated  'midst  most 
dreary  surroundings,  when  I  noticed  a  lonely  grave  that  had 
not  been  kept  with  care,  nor  had  it  received  even  that  cursory 
attention  which  had  apparently  been  bestowed  upon  other 
graves  around.  There  were  no  sea  shells  on  this  mound,  nor 
faded  flowers.  There  was  no  simple  headstone,  nor  marble 
with  inscription,  to  tell  the  name  and  the  time  when  this  new 
tenant  of  the  tomb  closed  the  earthly  pilgrimage,  and  was  in 
this  sad  and  solitary  place  interred.  Upon  inquiry,  I  learned 
who  the  deceased  was,  and  the  tears,  trials  and  tragedy  of  an 
obscure  life  that  had  suffered  and  sang  its  octaves  of  agony 
unknown  to  the  world.  She  passed  away  not  many  years 
before  in  her  lonely  home  among  the  tall  pines  and  the  swamp 
wildwood,  in  sorrows  the  saddest  and  in  circumstances  most 

27 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

distressing.  She  was  a  young  wife,  and  before  her  marriage 
she  had  resided  in  a  distant  city,  where  she  had  toiled  from 
early  childhood  in  an  honorable  way  for  a  decent  support  and 
honest  livelihood.  She  gave  her  heart  and  hand  to  a  man 
who  owned  a  small  tract  of  land  and  a  cabin  in  a  remote 
section  of  an  adjoining  county.  Doubtless  she  was  as  happy 
a  bride  as  many  others  whose  matrimonial  hour  comes 
attended  by  gayest  festivities  and  in  most  affluent  circum- 
stances. She  now  had  a  home  she  could  call  her  own.  She 
could  plant  her  flowers  and  trail  the  running  vines  about  her 
own  cottage  door,  and  likely  had  her  life  been  spared,  and  had 
she  met  with  any  degree  of  responsiveness,  she  would  have 
exemplified  in  that  remote  part  of  the  world,  that  rarest 
thing — love  in  a  cottage  and  conjugal  happiness  in  a  poor 
cabin  home.  But  Providence  decreed  otherwise.  No,  not 
Providence,  for  does  God  decree  evil!  Does  our  Heavenly 
Father  create  conditions  and  circumstances  in  this  world  to 
make  mortals  miserable.''  Does  He  design  that  any  of  His 
poor,  dependant  children  should  in  this  world  become  the  vic- 
tim of  cruelty,  and  be  unhappy  all  their  days?  No,  "God  is 
love."  His  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness  and  all  His  paths 
are  paths  of  peace.  Faith  in  His  name,  and  fulfilling  the 
conditions  of  spirtiual  life  always  bring  sunshine  to  the  heart 
and  home,  and  drive  away  all  darkness,  and  sin,  and  the  cause 
of  the  discontented  mind,  and  unhappiness.  The  forces  of 
evil,  I  might  call  it,  decreed  that  the  young  wife  should  not 
dwell  in  the  new  cabin  home  long — just  long  enough  for  the 
vines  to  begin  to  clamber  about  the  cottage  door  and  the 
flowers  she  had  planted  to  burst  forth  into  their  first  bloom- 
ing. The  husband  was  a  most  petulant  man,  and  at  times 
would  give  way  to  the  insane  impulses  of  a  violent  temper. 
Sometimes  he  was  kind  and  considerate  to  his  young  wife;  at 
other  times  he  was  unreasonable  in  his  demands,  and  harsh 
and  cruel  in  his  conduct  towards  her. 

The  neighbors  in  course  of  time  generally  learn  everything 

28 


Family  Prayer. 

good  or  bad  concerning  the  life  and  character  of  a  home  in 
their  midst,  and  it  soon  became  known  to  them  that  this  young 
wife  was  greatly  imposed  upon,  and  that  she  received  blows, 
and  severe  ones  at  times,  from  the  hands  of  him  she  had  a 
right  to  expect  caresses  and  marks  of  unalloyed  affection. 
On  one  occasion,  after  one  year's  married  life,  she  visited  a 
neighbor  friend  one  afternoon  and  returned  at  a  later  hour 
after  sundown  than  the  orders  of  her  governor  permitted. 
The  irate  husband,  with  curses,  struck  her  several  blows. 
Her  encouchment  was  not  far  off.  She  succumbed  to  the 
punishment,  retired  to  her  bed  and  became  alarmingly  ill  with 
convulsions.  She  was  tenderly  watched  and  nursed  during 
the  night  by  the  kind  neighbors,  but  ere  morning  came  she 
died — doubly  murdered. 

In  the  shadow  of  the  old  church  building  they  were  buried, 
and  this  is  the  first  time  the  sad  story  has  ever  been  told.  Per- 
haps if  the  truth  of  her  life,  character  and  patient  suffering 
were  fully  known,  no  other  sleeper  in  the  ancient  graveyard 
deserves  a  higher  monument  or  a  more  lasting  memorial  in 
marble.  When  the  time  for  grave-decorating  at  the  old 
church  comes  around  again,  I  hope  kind  hands  will  plant  some 
evergreen  there,  and  place  sweet  flowers  on  that  solitary 
grave,  though  ere  long  they,  too,  may  fade  away  and  perish 
hke  the  life  and  hopes  of  the  murdered  heart  that  died  and 
was  buried  there  years  ago. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Family  Prayer. 

There  is  one  class  of  sinners  I  find  in  this  broad  religious 
land  who  destroys  much  good — prayerless  parents.  In  many 
church  communities  there  are  fearfully  few  home  altars,  a 
sure  evidence  of  a  lack  of  vitality  as  can  be  easily  detected  in 

29 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

great  spiritual  leanness.  I  never  saw  a  man  that  had  joy  and 
peace  in  the  Holy  Ghost  who  provideth  not  for  the  religious 
welfare  of  his  own  household.  If  he  starts  out  with  a 
religious  zeal  it  is  not  long  before  he  denies  the  faith.  God 
puts  the  seal  of  His  displeasure  upon  such  a  sin  of  omission  by 
withdrawing  His  Spirit.  He  turns  him  over  to  a  reprobate 
mind. 

The  father  without  an  altar  is  a  priest  that  has  forsaken 
his  calling ;  a  home  without  prayer  and  praise  is  a  body  with- 
out spirit.  He  is  worse  than  an  infidel  and  will  do,  if  he 
repents  not,  actual  devilment  in  course  of  human  events  when- 
ever there  is  a  favorable  opportunity.  Said  I  once  to  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church — and  mercy  on  us,  a  steward,  too — said 
I,  "Brother,  you  have  an  interesting  family,  a  good  wife,  a 
pleasant  home.  Pray  with  your  family.  It  will  do  you  good, 
it  will  be  so  helpful  to  the  wife,  it  will  have  a  beneficial  eff^ect 
on  the  children  and  it  will  be  setting  a  good  example  before 
your  neighbors.     Come,  now." 

He  grew  serious.  Taking  me  aside,  he  said,  "That's  good, 
what  you  have  told  me,  but  you  see,  I  am  not  right  exactly 
and  my  wife,  'er,  she  knows  that  I'm  a  sort  of  a  rascal,  and  it 
won't  do  to  be  too  much  of  a  hypocrite." 

Future  events  proved  that  his  wife  had  him  down  right. 

And  I  fear  that  many  fathers  here  and  there  in  our  Israel 
do  not  worship  God  in  their  homes,  because  they  know  the 
wife,  that  best  discemer  of  spirits,  have  no  confidence  in  their 
Christian  profession,  and  they  believe  they  are  more  or  less 
"sort  of  rascals."  The  Lord  have  mercy  on  'em.  Yes,  that's 
the  sinner  that  should  repent,  the  father  or  mother  that's  not 
training  by  the  good  word  and  work  of  prayer  and  praise  in 
the  home  their  offspring  in  the  way  they  should  go.  He  may 
be,  this  sinner,  a  generous  fellow,  an  amiable  man,  possessing 
many  commendable  traits  of  character,  yet  one  thing  he  lacks. 
"To  him  that  knoweth  to  do  good  and  doeth  it  not,  to  him  it 
is  sin."     That's  plain  enough.     Apply  it. 

30 


,  Two  Educators  Who  Educated. 

Some  years  ago  in  a  meeting  I  conducted,  a  big,  strong 
man  become  deeply  convicted.  He  came  to  the  church  altar 
for  prayer.  He  himself  prayed  and  wept.  Directly  he 
moved  from  his  place  and  sat  upon  a  bench  near.  He 
requested  his  grown  daughter  and  son  who  were  present  to 
come  to  him.  He  placed  liis  arms  around  them  and  said: 
"Children,  please  forgive  me."  The  daughter,  much  affected, 
said:  "Why,  papa,  you  have  always  been  the  best  of  fathers 
to  me,  why  say  'I  forgive  you.'"  You  have  ever  been  a  good 
father  and  gave  me  more  than  I  wanted."  "No  I  haven't," 
said  he,  "I  have  never  worshipped  God  in  our  home,  never  have 
tried  to  train  you  to  be  religious,  never  gave  you  Christ ;  and 
so,  my  precious  children,  do  forgive  me."  They  did,  and 
God  did. 

There  are  not  a  few  fathers  who  perchance  will  read  these 
lines,  and  who  have  done  the  wrong  he  committed,  and  are  in 
need  of  the  grace  of  repentance  he  exhibited. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TxtH>  Educators  Who  Educated. 

The  education  of  the  man  should  begin  when  the  man 
begins.  The  parent  moulds  the  character  and  shapes  the 
future  destiny  of  the  child.  "Train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go."  That's  according  to  the  fitness  of  things, 
and  it's  the  divine  way.  The  man  who  lacks  gumption  and 
godliness  has  got  no  business  with  a  family  of  children.  He 
has  missed  his  calling.  He  who  is  incapacitated  to  supply  the 
soul-wants  of  his  offspring  is  worse  than  a  heathen. 

The  divine  command,  "Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother," 
presupposes  that  the  child  has  been  honored  all  the  days  of  its 
youthful  life  by  the  parent.  In  this  case,  as  a  man  soweth  so 
shall  he  also  reap.     Sow  the  principles  of  the  gospel  into  the 

31 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

fertile  soul  of  the  young,  and  demonstrate  clearly  those  godly 
principles  in  a  pure,  consecrated  life,  and  loving,  dutiful  chil- 
dren even  down  to  old  age  will  be  the  gladsome  harvest. 
Sometimes  it  is  said  of  a  youngster  just  twenty-one,  "He  is 
free  now;  he  can  come  and  go  as  he  pleases."  Free  from 
what.f*  What  sort  of  a  tyrany  has  he  escaped,  from  what 
kind  of  bondage  has  he  been  delivered  by  this  unfortunate 
statute  of  limitations.?  That's  very  significant — "he  is  free 
at  twenty-one."  The  young  man  will  feel  less  embarrassed 
and  have  more  liberty  doubtless  when  the  old  man  dies  and  he 
takes  possession  of  the  remaining  tracts  of  fertile  fields. 

1.  I  knew  a  man  once  when  a  boy,  and  industrious  man 
and  as  godless  and  covetous  as  he  was  industrious.  He  had 
sons  who  had  to  work  like  slaves  until  they  "were  free." 
That  farmer  was  the  earliest  to  rise  and  the  latest  to  leave 
his  fields.  He  accumulated.  The  sons  waxed  strong  in 
gristle  and  grease,  and  their  aspirations  were  shaped  by  the 
sire. 

2.  One  day  that  godless  farmer  fell  from  his  mule.  It  was 
a  paralytic  stroke.^  Two  days,  and  he  died  without  a  will. 
In  the  chamber  of  death  we  stretched  him,  clothed  in  the  best 
garments  he  ever  wore.  I'll  never  forget  what  the  master 
of  ceremonies  said  as  he  looked  seriously  on  the  dignified 
corpse :  "Well,  boys,  we  all  know  where  he's  gone  to." 

3.  There  was  no  mourning,  no  sighs  or  signs  of  soul 
anguish  as  the  boys  passed  by  the  bier  and  viewed  the  "old 
man''  lying  in  state.  There  were  lank,  hungry  looks,  and 
directly  the  youngest  raised  the  question,  looking  ominously 
at  the  step-mother,  "Whar  is  pap's  breeches.'"' 

The  keys  were  there,  always  there,  in  "pap's  breeches" — the 
keys  that  unlocked  the  "chist"  where  the  dollars  were.  And 
they  all  were  delighted  when  they  got  the  breeches,  the  keys, 
and  unlocked  the  "chist." 

*  *  *  "And  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it." 


Two  Educators  Who  Educated. 

Years  ago,  in  the  seventies,  one  evening  might  have  been 
seen  a  circuit  rider  wending  his  way  slowly  home  from  a 
quarterly  meeting.  The  eighth  question  had  brought 
meagre  returns  in  cash  to  the  table,  though  there  had  been 
a  great  deal  of  "scrip"  reported.  Maybe  one  brother  had 
hauled  to  the  parsonage  a  load  of  wood  "at  the  market  price," 
and  that  was  reported  as  "scrip."  Another,  a  peck  of 
sweet  potatoes,  and  that  was  "scrip."  Another,  one  gallon 
of  s^'^rup — all  "at  the  market  price."  Another,  had  sacri- 
ficed— mercy ! — peas — cow-peas,  one  bushel ;  and  goobers, 
too ;  and  all  was  "scrip."  One  church,  where  there  was  much 
"spaituality,"  nearest  parsonage,  called,  say  Pisgah,  had 
kept  all  the  cash  and  fed  the  horse  and  pigs  of  the  preacher 
"at  the  market  price." 

Well,  weary-worn,  this  old,  brave  Methodist  preacher,  with 
his  "scrip,"  in  a  jogging  trot,  moved  on.  He  collected  on 
his  way  from  the  Conference  a  ham  or  two,  some  more 
"  'taters,"  and  passing  by  the  field  where  the  exhorter  of  the 
circuit  was  mowing  down  rich  shocks  of  ripening  oats,  the 
itinerant's  vehicle  was  stopped  and  a  few  dozen  bundles  were 
tied  behind  the  seat  of  the  buggy — "scrip"  for  the  next 
quarterly  meeting's  report. 

But  amidst  these  oats  and  goobers,  and  with  the  small 
amount  of  cash,  the  fearful  answer  to  the  eighth  question, 
this  old  hero  held  his  head  high.  He  was  uplifted  in  Ms 
poverty  by  lofty  aspirations.  There  were  three  little  lads 
at  home  he  had  determined  to  give  a  collegiate  education — an 
older  one,  a  middle  one  and  frail  baby  one.  Besides,  there 
were  girls,  two  or  three,  to  be  educated,  and  on  a  salary  of 
hardly  over  $500  a  year.  How  could  it  be  done.''  As  a 
business  institution,  it  looked  a  failure.  The  common  sense 
man  would  have  said,  "Imposible.''  The  uncommon  business 
man  would  have  said,  "Impracticable."  But  the  determined 
purpose  behind  the  oats,  'midst  the  "  'taters,"  said,  "By  God's 
help,  I  will."     "I  will  live  on  bread  and  water,"  said  he,  "and 

33 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

wear  patched  clothes  before  I  will  throw  mj  children  on 
society  uneducated." 

The  old  man's  gone  now.  He  returned  home  one  time 
on  the  circuit  never  to  start  out  again.  One  can  scarcely 
read  on  the  darkened  and  storm-beaten  slab  that  marks  his 
resting-place  the  lines  that  record  his  name,  but  his  work 
and  spirit  remain,  greater  than  costliest  monumental  shaft. 

The  daughters  got  the  education.  That  oldest  lad  is  a 
preacher,  filling  most  important  stations  and  Secretary  of 
Education ;  the  middle  one  is  president  of  a  growing  college ; 
the  frail  baby  boy  is  a  preacher  of  power.  The  old  hero 
behind  the  oats,  'midst  the  "  'taters"  and  goobers,  did  it  all. 

Thank  God  for  the  life  of  James  T.  Kilgo,  of  the  South 
Carolina  Conference. 

O  thou  poor  man,  whether  plodding  preacher  or  forlorn 
farmer,  hast  thou  children  to  educate?  Let  not  chill  penury 
repress  thy  noble  rage.  Behold  what  this  man  of  whom  we 
have  written  accomplished,  and  move  on,  heart  within  and 
God  overhead. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness" 

"Ye  ugly,  creepin',  blastit  wonner, 
Detested,  shunn'd  by  saunt  an'  sinner." — Burns. 

The  pestilence  of  the  Psalmist  has  no  reference  to  a  little 
pestilential  live  thing  that  does  pester,  in  certain  favorable 
conditions,  innocent  humanity,  but  to  some  other  dire  evil 
that  might  invade  the  land  and  afflict  the  people.  And 
though  I  may  be  accused  of  descending  with  fearful  rapidity 
from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous  to  choose  a  text  of  Holy 
Writ  to  tell  the  tale  of  a  bug,  yet  the  application  is  so  sug- 

34 


"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness." 

gestive  that  I  cannot  resist  the  temptation.  The  pestilence 
in  the  Psalm  refers  to  "the  machinations  of  wicked  men 
hatched  in  the  dark ;"  tlie  application  is  to  the  machinations 
of  other  evil  things  hatched  also  in  the  dark.  I  might 
truthfully  say,  in  justification,  that  to  all  peaceful  sleepers 
in  Israel  of  good  taste  and  refined  feeling,  who  have  had  an 
experience,  the  noisome  creatures  referred  to  have  proven 
to  be  pestilential;  and,  secondly,  the  wary  and  unwearied 
pestilential  things  doth  "walk  in  darkness."  They  wait  till 
night,  "when  evils  are  most  free,"  ere  they  begin  their  nefari- 
ous trade.  When  the  sleeper  has  resigned  himself  to  his 
pillow,  when  tired  nature  seeks  needed  repose,  and  when 
balmy  sleep  at  last  overcomes,  then  it  is  these  maurauders 
steal  softly  from  lurking  places  in  cracks  and  crevices.  They 
survey  with  wondering  eyes  and  mahcious  delight  their  out- 
stretched victim  as  he  lies  upon  his  downy  couch,  a 
quiet  breezeless  midsummer  night,  helpless  and  unprotected. 
Directly,  long  before  the  cock  crows  for  midnight,  the  sleeper 
starts  as  one  half-affrighted.  He  rises  on  one  elbow,  rubs 
his  eyes,  scratches  violently  his  head  and  thinks  now  it  may 
have  been  some  unrecalled  dream  that  disturbed  him  so,  and 
again  lies  down,  but  not  to  pleasant  slumbers.  He  has  no 
right  to  indulge  in  suspicion,  for  the  room  he  inhabits  is  the 
"company  chamber,"  especially  prepared  for  guests.  The 
sheets  and  coverlets  are  clean  and  white  as  snow,  and  the 
bedstead,  though  very  ancient,  has  held  many  an  honorable 
guest  before.  He  strives,  therefore,  to  compose  himself  and 
court  sweet  slumber.  Though  "darkness  there  and  nothing 
more,"  he  closes  his  eyelids,  shuts  off  all  avenues  of  thought 
and  clips  the  wings  of  imagination  that  they,  in  this  troubled 
midnight  hour,  might  not  soar  at  all.  He  does  painful,  plod- 
ding work  with  the  now  dull  mental  powers  to  induce  sleep. 
He  counts  the  sheep  as  they  one  by  one  leap  over  a  wall,  or 
slowly  repeats  backward  the  multiplication  table,  or  else 
thinks   of  the  traveler,   weared  and  worn,   who   reaches   his 

35 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

home  exhausted  and  gets  snug  in  bed  not  until  the  first  wee 
hour  of  morn,  or  the  tired  laborer  in  "Cotter's  Saturday 
Night,"  who  sleeps  so  soundly  after  a  day  of  unremitting  toil. 
No  one  can  tell  the  exact  moment  when  unconsciousness 
actually  takes  place  and  one  succumbs  to  sleep.  One  knows 
full  weU  when  the  clock  on  the  mantle  struck  twelve  or  two, 
as  the  case  may  be,  but  never  heard  it  strike  one  or  three, 
and  somewhere  between  twelve  and  one,  or  somewhere  between 
two  and  three,  he  knows  sleep  came,  and  that  is  all  that  he 
does  know — all  that  the  afterward  awakened  consciousness 
brings  to  mind.  So  the  sleeper  we  have  in  contemplation,  in 
the  "company  chamber,"  on  the  very  ancient  bedstead,  remem- 
bers that  he  did  go  to  sleep.  May  be  it  was  during  the 
counting  of  the  sheep,  or  while  the  multiplication  table  was 
being  repeated,  or  while  sympathy  was  exercised  for  the 
tired  laborer  or  the  wearied  traveler — somewhere  along  there 
he  became  fast  asleep.  In  the  meantime  the  other  watchful 
inhabitants  of  the  old  bedstead,  who  had  bided  their  time, 
begin  hostilities.  The  feet,  first  of  the  sleeper,  are  poniarded 
for  blood,  and  then  others,  crawling  over  part  of  the  face,  as 
if  to  be  satisfied  that  all's  quiet  and  the  victim  is  at  rest,  make 
incisions  in  the  neck,  stabbing  and  sucking  here  and  there. 
The  sleeper  awakes.  He  soon  becomes  conscious  that  he  has 
been  humbugged  out  of  sleep,  and  that  they  are  there,  prob- 
ably in  considerable  force.  He  stretches  himself,  gapes  and 
yawns,  but  in  the  darkness  seeks  a  match  and  lights  the  lamp. 
He  goes  to  the  bed  to  investigate,  but  apparently  they  are 
gone.  Like  other  sort  of  sinners,  they  hate  the  light  and  will 
flee  from  it  as  from  wrath.  Just  under  the  pillow  there  is 
one  or  more  likely,  he  will  find,  that  did  not  fly  with  the  gang 
when  light  was  flashed  over  the  scene.  Too  heavily  laden,  it 
may  be,  for  active  and  sudden  exertion,  too  full  of  the  rich 
feast  of  crimson  blood  to  find  the  hiding  places.  There  it 
squats  low  upon  the  spotless  sheet  with  the  lamplight  gloat- 
ing o'er.     As  the  now  fully  awakened  former  occupant  of 

36 


"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness." 

the  bed  beholds  the  "varmint,"  he  might  well  wish,  in  the 
words  of  the  poet : 

"O,  for  some  rank,  mercurial  rozet 
Or  fell  red  smedum, 
I'd  give  you  sic  a  hearty  dose  o't 
Wad  dress  your  droddum." 

To  dispatch  the  bug  in  such  circumstances  is  often  the 
thought  of  a  moment,  but  the  execution  should  be  done  with 
the  greatest  care,  for  the  ordinary  and  suggestive  killing  by 
mashing  the  body  and  parts  of  the  noisome  nuisance  pro- 
duces such  an  offensive  odoriferous  shock  to  sensitive  olfac- 
tory nerves  that  it  would  take  hours  to  overcome  and  days 
to  forget.  It  is  best  generally  to  let  the  thing  alone  in  its 
glory,  and  leave  the  bed  and  bedding,  for  this  one  found 
under  the  pillow  may  be  the  lone  straggler  of  a  mighty 
horde,  as  close  investigation  often  proves.  Yes,  surrender 
the  couch  to  those  creatures  for  whom  it  was  not  prepared, 
and  if  there  be  no  book,  paper,  nor  pencil,  go  to  the  window 
and  by  its  side  sit  down  for  awhile,  and  look  out  and  upward 
upon  the  immensity  of  space.  Perhaps  the  stars  may  give 
some  food  thought  of  relief,  and  the  consideration  of  the 
beautiful  handiwork  of  the  firmament  might  console  in  a  sad 
and  lonely  midsummer  night  hour.  Cogitate  in  the  circum- 
stances until  tired  nature  yearns  for  rest,  and  then,  avoid  the 
bed,  its  sheets  and  pillows,  and  stretch  thy  weary  length  upon 
the  floor,  enduring  hardness  as  a  good  soldier.  Even  there, 
however,  upon  the  floor  they  may  find  you ;  even  there,  you 
may  feel  their  sting  and  smell  the  inti-usion  of  the  pestilence 
that  walketh  in  darkness,  until  day  breaketh  everywhere  and 
the  glad  hour  of  morning  delivers  you  from  the  dire  prison 
of  a  bed-room  and  its  obnoxious  and  cruel  inhabitants. 

The  traveling  preacher  as  a  general  rule  has  no  option  as 
to  special  homes  or  temporary  abode.  He  must  not  seek  soft 
places,   sumptuous   dining  halls   and  delectable  chambers   in 

37 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

which  to  recuperate,  feast  and  sleep.  As  he  moves  around 
among  his  parishioners  or  other  kindly  disposed  and  hospit- 
able people,  he  would  be  lacking  in  the  Christian  spirit  if 
he  would  be  indifferent  to  the  welcome  fireside  of  the  cottages, 
or  show  inappreciation  for  the  cup  of  cold  water  from  the 
humblest  and  poorest.  He  is  here,  yonder  and  everywhere, 
and  must  eat,  drink  and  rest  where  invitation  is  extended  and 
providence  and  pious  policy  may  suggest.  He  must  not  say 
to  the  poor  man  who  invites  him  to  board  and  bed,  unless 
there  had  been  a  previous  innocent  arrangement,  "No,  I 
thank  you,  sir;  I  will  go  to  Col.  Bobo's  today  to  dine,"  or 
"to  Major  Plumtree's  tomorrow  for  supper  and  lodging." 
The  circuit  rider  must  be  a  man  of  the  people  and  for  the 
people.  He  should  be,  for  Christ's  sake,  "all  things  to  all 
men  that  by  all  means  he  might  save  some."  It  is  not  only 
a  pious  proposition — this  commendable  conduct — but  it  is- 
sound  policy.  It  pays  to  stoop  to  conquer.  Some  of  the 
most  faithful  adherents  of  the  Church  today  are  not  robed 
in  soft  raiment,  nor  do  they  live  in  king's  houses.  The  main- 
stay and  steady  support  of  our  great  ecclesiastical  system 
in  this  Southland  of  ours  in  past  days  has  been  the  humble 
dwellers  of  mountain  log  cabins  and  the  inhabitants  of 
uncouth  homes  'midst  the  dreary  swamps  and  tall  pines  of 
the  lowlands.  There^s  where  our  greatness  and  sturdy  race 
began.  They  were  a  happy  people  on  their  bread  and  bacon 
as  they  bore  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  and  sang  songs 
of  joy  around  the  torch-lighted  firesides  at  night  in  their 
humble  homes. 

"How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  afield. 
How  bow'd  the  woods  beneath  their  sturdy  stroke." 

Such  sentiments  as  are  contained  in  the  above  actuated  me, 
I  am  glad  to  say,  in  my  early  ministry  when  first  I  began 
to  make  my  pastoral  rounds,  and  I  have  been  trying  to  hold 
fast  to  this   faith  and  practice  since  those  novice-days.     I 

38 


"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness." 

have  had  some  trying  experiences  in  attempting  to  come  up 
to  the  standard — to  the  "all  tilings  to  all  men,"  but,  as  a 
rule,  I  have  managed  the  situation  fairly  well.  Occasionally, 
however,  I  must  confess,  I  have  manifested  a  tendency  that 
looked  more  to  creature  comforts  than  to  the  main  purpose 
of  my  vocation.  Once  I  remember  well  I  departed  from 
the  wholesome  principles  I  have  ever  maintained,  and  mani- 
fested a  nervous  weakness  that  I  am  more  ready  to  confess 
than  to  defend.  That  which  is  akin  to  the  aesthetic  forces 
of  a  sensitve  system  broke  out  in  open  and  daring  rebellion, 
and  I  had  to  give  way  for  the  time  on  account  of  cruel  cir- 
cumstances which  were  beyond  my  power  to  amend  or 
alleviate. 

As  I  revert  today  to  the  scene,  time  and  place  of  my  tribu- 
lation and  retreat,  I  have  no  words  of  commendation  for  my 
conduct,  yet  really  in  my  heart  I  have  never  been  able  to 
condemn.  Although  I  apparently  did  rashly  violate  the  law 
of  open-hearted  hospitality,  nevertheless  I  experienced  com- 
placency of  spirit  afterwards  and  my  conscience  was  soothed 
and  relieved  by  the  thought  of  compulsory  circumstances, 
and  it  seemed,  like  the  rabbit  in  "Uncle  Remus,"  which 
climbed  the  telegraph  pole,  hostly  pursued  by  the  fox,  I  was 
just  "obleeged  ter." 

On   one  occasion,   some  years  ago,   early   in   my   hopeful 

itinerancy  in  the  county  of ,  I  was  pressed  to  spend 

the  night  with  a  good  and  humble  brother,  whom,  for  con- 
venience sake  in  the  narrative,  we  will  call  Mr.  Erastus 
McQuorter.  He  lived  quite  a  distance  from  the  place  where 
I  was  residing,  and  without  a  wavering  mind,  but  with  heart 
encouraged  by  pleasing  prospects,  I  consented  to  go,  naming 
the  hour  of  the  evening  when  in  all  probability  I  would 
arrive. 

Who  is  it  that  does  not  enjoy  a  drive  over  the  highways 
of  the  up-country  in  the  good  old  summer  time,  when  there 
are  no  clouds  nor  threatening  weather  and  the  day  is  pleasant. 

39 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

The  roads  generally  in  summer  are  at  their  best,  hard  and 
smooth.  The  forest  and  fields  are  the  greenest,  the  birds 
sing  their  sweetest  and  the  fresh  flowing  streams  and  rivulets 
make  music  as  the  traveler  passes  by.  Over  the  hills  and 
down  again,  through  long  stretches  of  woodland,  across  the 
creeks,  and  valleys  and  through  beautiful  fields  of  waving 
com  I  drove  to  McQuorter's,  where  I  arrived  just  as  the  sun 
was  going  down.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting  hour  on  the 
farm,  away  in  the  backwoods,  is  when  the  hard  day's  work  is 
over  and  the  "hands"  and  "plowmen  plod  their  weary  way" 
to  their  homes  and  the  bam.  The  tired  mules  are  ungeared 
and  relieved  of  bit  and  bridle.  They  seek  their  watering  and 
wallow  with  many  a  grunt  of  satisfaction  in  the  soft,  sandy 
places  of  the  lot.  The  cows  are  now  in  the  stalls  chewing 
their  cuds  in  peace  after  the  milking  and  feeding,  and  the 
calves,  young  and  foolish,  skip  about  here  and  there,  leaping 
and  jumping,  shying  at  objects  and,  with  head  up  and  tails 
outstretched,  they  run  about  as  swiftly  and  dexteriously  as 
deers  in  a  park.  The  geese  keep  up  a  goose-like  attitude 
and  join  in  a  discordant  and  monotonous  refrain.  The  ducks 
chatter  and  quack  continuously — the  old  drakes  instinctively 
polite  and  obsequiously  gallant  are  busy,  bobbing  their  heads 
up  and  down,  and  seem  to  encourage  those  that  do  the  quack- 
ing to  make  more  noise  and  continue  their  fussy  clamors. 
The  other  poultry  who  retire  earliest,  led  by  their  richly- 
combed  leader,  have  all  repaired  to  their  roost  in  the  fowl 
house  hardby  and  are  not  in  the  motley  crowd's  ignoble 
strife.  The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  however,  will  be  the  first 
heard  in  the  early  morning.  At  feed  time  the  hogs  raise  a 
perfect  sound  of  dire  distress  and  lamentation,  until  the  boy 
comes  with  the  slops  and  basket  of  corn.  "The  ox  knoweth 
his  owner  and  the  ass  his  master's  crib."  After  awhile  all 
are  watered,  slopt,  housed,  penned,  cooped  and  fed,  and  ere 
twilight  in  summer  has  altogether  gone  the  farmer  with  a 

40 


"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness." 

clear  conscience,  tired  limbs  and  a  good  appetite,  is  ready  for 
his  substantial  supper  and  his  bed. 

After  enjoying  a  scene  somewhat  similar  to  the  above  the 
evening  of  my  arrival,  I  was  soon  in  McQuorter's  castle, 
making  myself  "feel  at  home.''  McQuorter's  house  was  an 
old  one.  It  bore  evidence,  internal  and  external,  of  great 
antiquity.  It  had  never  seen  paint,  and  very  little  white- 
wash of  lime,  but  its  sound  timbers  had  withstood  the 
inroads  of  varied  seasons  of  many  years  and  the  storms  and 
tempests  of  decades.  Mr.  McQuorter's  house  was  a  log 
dwelling.  The  main  part  of  the  edifice  was  of  hewn  logs, 
weather-boarded  without  and  ceiled  within,  and  there  were 
shed  rooms  around. 

After  the  "stock"  had  been  fed,  and  the  cows  milked,  it 
wasn't  long  before  preparations  for  supper  were  in  full  blast 
in  an  adjoining  room.  There  was  a  hurrying  and  scurry- 
ing to  and  fro,  and  sounds  of  a  spluttering  and  spattenng, 
and  of  dishes,  a-rinsing  and  a-clattering.  Then  there  came 
a  noise  of  grinding,  and  a  noise  of  frying,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  everything  was  baked  and  browned,  and  supper 
was  announced.  The  biscuit-bread  was  very  large,  baked  in 
unwieldly  pones,  the  coffee  very  strong,  and  ham  and  eggs 
were  verily  fried — and  I  did  thank  the  good  Lord  for 
McQuorter's  supper. 

The  scene  now  shifts  to  other  quarters — to  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts of  the  bed-room,  that  part  of  the  domicile  given  to  the 
guest  where,  according  to  the  law,  he  has  two  points  of 
ownership.  He  is  placed  in  undisputed  posession  of  the  room, 
and  he  has,  therefore,  the  right  of  possession.  He  volun- 
tarily enters  in  upon  the  possession  and  the  right  of  posses- 
sion, and  at  will  he  can  retreat  or  surrender  his  rights  and 
privileges.  The  guest  is  here  made  monarch  of  all  he  surveys 
with  the  right  to  lock,  bar  and  defend  if  necessary  from  all 
assaults.  I  was  not  in  the  "company  room"  a  great  while 
when  I,  by  the  dim  lamplight  burning,  did  begin  to  survey. 

41 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

It  was  a  shed-room,  and  an  old  one.  In  years  gone  it  had 
been  whitewashed,  and  I  noticed  the  walls  were  streaked  as 
by  water.  I  paused  and  considered.  Evidently  the  room, 
walls  and  all,  had  seen  hot  water,  and  I  could  not  forbear 
articulating  to  myself  audiblj^ :  "Alas,  I  do  believe  they  are 
here!"  Close  inspection  confirmed  the  belief,  and  though  I 
was  sincerely  in  hopes  I  was  mistaken,  yet  I  retired  with  a 
heavy  heart  and  sad  forebodings.  I  had  placed  a  friendly 
match  near  the  little  lamp,  so  that  in  case  of  an  uprising  of 
my  dreaded  and  suspected  enemy  I  might  be  able  to  throw 
light  immediately  on  the  situation.  I  was  soon  ensconced 
between  snowy  white  sheets,  had  changed  the  current  of  my 
thoughts  from  the  consideration  of  sordid  things  to  nobler 
conceptions,  when  all  at  once  I  felt  sweet  slumber's  chain  was 
binding  me — I  was  gone.  How  long  I  slept  I  know  not — I 
think  not  many  moments  over  an  hour  when  I  became  con- 
scious of  the  crawling  creatures  and  stinging  sensations. 
When  light  was  turned  on,  the  scene  that  met  my  gaze  on  the 
snow-white  counterpanes  and  sheets  of  the  bed  was  horrifying. 
If  I  would  say  there  were  five  hundred,  I'd  be  guilty  of  a  par- 
donable exaggeration.  If  I'd  state  that  there  were  at  least 
two  hundred,  I'd  come  near  the  truth.  They  were  of  all 
sizes,  all  ages,  apparently.  Some  were  flat  and  rather  turtle- 
shaped,  others  narrow  and  long.  I  had  never  seen  gray- 
backed  and  gray-headed  ones  before,  I  presume  on  account 
of  old  age — and  withal  there  were  a  multitude  of  wee  ones, 
just  hatched  and  started  out  for  their  first  game.  To  attend 
immediately,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  to  my  toilet  was  a 
movement  hastily  executed.  Alas !  they  were  on  my  shoes — 
on  the  soles  thereof,  and  on  my  linen !  I  dressed  and  marched 
out  into  a  piazza,  and  from  there  to  the  front  yard  of  the 
dwelling.  I  reflected  on  my  dire  dilemma.  What  must  I  Ao^ 
Where  must  I  go  Back  into  that  "company  room.'"' 
Never.  To  the  bam !  came  the  notion  hke  a  thought  of 
inspiration.     I  repaired  thither  with  hasty  strides,  but  the 

4^ 


"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness." 

door  was  shut  and  locked.  There  was  no  way  to  gain  entrance. 
I  concluded  to  seek  the  stable,  where  my  horse  had  been  fed, 
and  sleep  the  balance  of  the  night  in  the  trough,  but  found 
the  feeding-box  of  the  horse  too  short  and  too  narrow.  There 
was  no  room  for  me  in  barn  nor  stable,  and  I  returned  to  the 
yard  in  a  perturbation  of  mind  that  cannot  well  be  described. 
To  go  from  this  place,  or  not  to  go,  was  the  question — 
whether  it  was  nobler  to  remain  and  be  bitten  by  bugs  all  the 
night  long,  or  order  horse  and  vehicle  and  retreat  to  some 
other  home  and  thus  offend  good  people  forever,  was  the 
burning  question  in  my  mind  as  I  stood  alone  a  star-light 
night  in  McQuorter's  yard.  It  must  have  been  near  mid- 
night, everything  was  so  still.  I  was  the  lone  sentinel,  nerv- 
ous and  unhappy.  I  began  to  imagine  the  things  were  still 
on  me — on  my  body  and  in  my  head,  and  I'd  scratch  here 
and  there  vigorously.  While  in  a  state  of  doubt  and  fear, 
holding  my  derby  hat  in  one  hand — the  other  was  occupied 
in  scratching — a  piece  of  paper  fell  from  the  hat  on  the 
ground  at  my  feet.  I  immediately  seized  this  little  piece  of 
paper  as  something  that  might  prove  suggestive,  that  might 
indicate  my  course  of  action  and  bring  me  to  some  happy 
decision  in  this  dreadful  hour — for  there  were  a  few  letters 
on  the  tag  that  fell  from  the  hat.  In  early  youth  I  had  been 
somewhat  affected  by  superstition.  I  caught  it  from  the  old 
"mammy"  of  the  kitchen  and  the  negroes  of  the  "quarters." 
When  a  boy,  going  to  some  place  and  forgetting  something 
and  having  to  return,  I'd  make  my  mark  and  spit  in  it  before 
I  went  back.  The  owl  hooting  or  screeching  near  the  window 
at  midnight  was  a  thing  of  terror  and  the  harbinger  of  death. 
I  was  well  up  on  all  the  foolish  superstitions  of  the  old  planta- 
tion. There  was  in  my  youthful  heart  the  greatest  sympathy 
for  poor,  unfortunate  Annie  Lee,  in  "Enoch  Arden,"  who, 
pressed  by  Phillip's  suit  and  not  knowing  whether  the  absent 
Enoch  was  dead  or  alive,  it  being  ten  years  since  he  left  her 
for  the  long  sea  voyage,  one  night  arose  from  her  sleepless 

45 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

pillow  and  rushed  to  the  Bible  for  a  decision  of  her  fate. 
She  opened  the  sacred  volume  and,  placing  her  finger  quickly 
down,  blindly,  upon  the  page,  she  looked  and  read,  "Under 
a  palm  tree."  Those  were  the  words,  and  nothing  more.  I 
don't  know  why  I  did  it.  It  might  have  been  that  the  early 
impressions  I  thought  had  been  discarded,  had  subtlely 
returned  to  me  in  a  weak  and  trying  hour.  Anyhow,  I 
reached  down  and  secured  the  bit  of  paper  that  fell  at  my 
feet,  and  said:  "Maybe  on  this  tag  there  is  a  word  that  will 
hint  to  me  what  I  must  do."  Going  softly  to  the  little  lamp 
in  the  room  I  examined  and  found  the  tag  to  be  a  diamond- 
shaped  one  that  had  fallen  from  the  inside  of  the  derby  hat. 
There  were  on  it  the  initials  of  the  makers  of  that  sort  of 
hat.  The  letters  in  large  type  printed,  were,  "H.  O.  P.  &  S." 
I  felt  immediately  relieved.  I  was  decided.  O  happy  the 
doubting  man  that  comes  to  a  definite  decision,  and  knows 
exactly  what  to  do.  My  mind  was  "made  up"  instantly.  I 
reasoned  and  translated  thusly:  "H.  O.  P.  &  S."  means 
"Hop  and  skeedaddle,"  and  I  will  forthwith  leave  these  prem- 
ises and  my  good  friend,  Erastus  McQuorter. 

I  approached  the  door  of  my  friend's  apartments  and  sum- 
moned him  to  appear.  I  called  softly  at  first.  He  did  not 
respond.  He  must  have  been  a  sound  sleeper,  for  in  my  rest- 
less movements  during  the  hour  or  more  I  had  been  walking 
about  the  yard  considerable  noise  had  been  produced  by  the 
dog  and  geese ;  but  none  of  these  things  moved  McQuorter,  or 
disturbed  him  in  his  dreams.  I  called  aloud  for  McQuorter, 
and  knocked  and  called  again.  He  came  directly  to  the  door, 
opened  it,  and  I  desired  him  to  come  inside,  when  the  follow- 
ing dialogue  occurred: 

McQuorter:  "What  on  earth,  man,  is  the  matter?" 
Lodger:  "Well,  sir,  I  know  you  are  surprised  to  see  me 
dressed  at  this  hour — and  if  you  will  from  your  heart  forgive 
me,  I'm  obliged  to  teU  you  that  I  must  take  a  midnight  airing 
— I  must  travel." 


44 


"The  Pestilence  That  Walketh  in  Darkness." 

McQuorter  (now  thoroughly  awakened)  :  "Look  here,  you 
are  joking?     You  don't  intend  to  leave,  do  you?" 

Lodger:  "Yes,  sir,  I  do;  and  you  must  not  think  hard  of 
me.     I  am  troubled  with  a  nervousness  that  I  cannot  control." 

McQuorter:  "Why  not  stay  on,  man?  Won't  you  soon 
get  better  after  a  little  sleep?" 

Lodger:  "No,  sir,  never.  It  will  take  a  drive  of  a  few 
miles  in  the  pleasant  night  air  to  restore  my  equilibrium. 
Absolutely  necessary." 

Nothing  would  satisfy  McQuorter  until  I  confessed  that  it 
was  bugs — bugs  bj'^  the  hundreds  that  had  driven  me  from 
my  bed.  On  that  equilibrium  idea,  and  manifesting  a  meek 
contrite  spirit,  I  got  away  without  much  difficulty.  My  horse 
was  caught,  harnessed  and  hitched,  and  I  was  soon  on  the 
highway  with  the  feeling  I  imagine  akin  somewhat  to  that  of 
a  prisoner  who  had  been  pardoned  and  honorably  discharged 
from  prison  and  was  rejoicing  in  his  liberty  again.  I  enjoyed 
a  pleasant  drive  of  a  few  miles,  making  my  way  to  another 
hospital  home,  and,  before  2  A.  M.,  I  had  awakened  another 
family,  who  doubtless  thought  it  extremely  early  for  pastoral 
calls,  and  was  comfortable  in  bed,  fast  asleep. 

I  am  persuaded  that  my  host,  Erastus  McQuorter,  for- 
gave me  for  my  unusual  conduct  and  excused  my  precipitate 
retreat  that  summer  night  from  his  bed  and  board  on  the 
plausible  ground  of  restoration  of  the  equilibrium.  It  is 
likely  that  the  next  day  at  McQuorter's  the  old  "company" 
bed  and  room  underwent  such  a  scouring  and  washing,  over- 
hauling and  brushing  with  that  painstaking  particularity  it 
had  never  witnessed  before,  and  I  am  satisfied  that  future 
lodgers  had  no  more  their  equilibrium  disturbed  or  their 
slumbers  broken  by  "the  pestilence  that  walketh  in  darkness." 

A  growing  civilization  and  refined  Christian  notions  of 
cleanliness  has  wonderfully  affected  the  homes,  beds  and 
kitchens  of  our  dear  common  people  during  the  last  few  years. 
Old  things  are  passing  away.     The  old  corded  bedstead  has 

45 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

gone  never  to  return,  the  antebellum  feather  bed  is  at  growing 
discount,  and  domestic  inventions  along  lines  of  comfort, 
cleanliness  and  convenience  have  been  most  marked,  and  are 
producing  most  salutarj'^  eflPect  upon  mind,  morals  and  man- 
ners. Many  of  our  most  humble  homes  have  flowers  in  the 
yard,  the  geranium  hothouse,  pretty  climbing  vines,  the  iron 
bedstead  in  the  guest  chamber,  and  all  the  house  as  neat  and 
tidy  as  one  could  wish.  The  old  log  house  with  its  shed- 
rooms,  too,  has  seen  its  day,  and,  uninhabited,  is  crumbling  in 
ruins.  Hard  by  the  old  place,  a  new,  neat  cottage  arises, 
painted  and  enclosed,  and  swept  and  garnished  within. 
"Cleanliness  is  akin  to  godliness."  More  so:  It  is  a  charac- 
teristic of  godliness  and  Christian  civilization. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Notes  and  Notions. 

"I  pray  thee,  therefore.  Father,  that  Thou  wouldst  send 
him  to  my  father's  house;  for  I  have  five  brethren  that  he 
may  testify  unto  them,  lest  they  also  come  into  this  place  of 
torment."  One  of  those  five  brethren  might  have  been  a 
politician. 

*  *  * 

Dignified  revei'end  that  wishes  to  make  himself  specially 
agreeable  to  kind  hostess:  "I'll  declare.  Sister  Nubbins,  this 
clabber  is  simply  delightful.  Never  did  taste  such  delicious 
clabber.     How  do  you  make  clabber,  Sister  Nubbins  .f"' 


Traveler,  to  Berkeley  Man :  "As  I  was  passing  the  village 

of the  other  evening  I  saw  the  town  hall  lit  up ; 

what  was  going  on  there?" 

46 


Notes  and  Notions. 

Berkeley  Man :  "It  was  some  sort  of  a  play." 
Traveler:  "What  sort  of  a  play,  you  reckon.'"' 
B.  M.  "Oh,  it  was  only  immature  theatricals." 


Every  preacher  should  conduct  annually  at  least  one  pro- 
tracted revival  meeting  himself  for  his  own  special  benefit  as 
well  as  others.  It  is  feared  that  there  are  some  who  are 
losing  in  unction  and  the  personal  power  of  persuasion.  To 
feel  that  upon  you  rests  the  burden  of  souls,  is  itself  a 
spiritual  blessing  that  imparts  strength. 


Divine  service — preacher  with  the  opening  prayer  seems 
loath  to  let  loose.  The  prayer  had  body  and  parts — all  long 
and  lengthening.  Old  preacher,  kneeling  near  the  source  of 
the  "opening  prayer"  called  a  halt:  "Condense  the  prayer" 
(in  a  whisper).  After  a  little  again:  "I  say,  brother,  con- 
dense, condense."  He  finally  blew  for  the  station,  but  the 
entire  congregation,  as  well  as  the  "old  preacher,"  had  become 
wearied,  and  that  part  of  the  service  which  should  always  be 
refreshing  proved  to  be  trying  and  tedious. 

*   *   * 

A  layman  said  to  me:  "I  tell  you,  Brother  Wilkes,  our 
people  came  near  kicking  when  Brother  Skipper  was  sent  to 
us  by  the  Conference,  but  I  looked  at  it  this  way:  Before 
Conference  met  I  prayed  to  the  Lord  to  send  us  the  right  man 
— a  good,  consecrated  minister,  for  the  Whalebone  charge, 
and  I  prayed  earnestly,  and  I  had  faith  in  my  praying.  Now 
of  course  here  comes  Skipper.  I  am  not  going  back  on  my 
prayer.  I  shall  support  him  with  all  my  heart.  He  is  the 
man  for  Whalebone  Circuit." 


47 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"The  tyrannical  conduct  of  husbands,  in  such  cases  is 
universal ;  and  I  scarce  know  one  householder  of  my  acquaint- 
ance who  has  not,  on  some  ill-omened  and  most  inconvenient 
season,  announced  suddenly  to  his  innocent  helpmate  that  he 
had  invited 

Some   odious  Major  Rock 

To  drop  in  at  six  o'clock, 

To  the  great  discomposure  of  the  lady,  and  the  discredit,  per- 
haps, of  her  domestic  arrangements." 

She,  the  helpmate,  should  by  all  means  be  consulted  before- 
hand with  reference  to  the  "Major's"  dining,  and  the  man  of 
the  house  should  always  cultivate  sympathy  for  the  kitchen 
and  culinary  conscience  of  the  wife. 


Said  an  old  fellow  once  to  me  over  in  Colleton,  during  a 

protracted  meeting:  "Brother  W ,   we   are  having  a 

glorious  meeting,  but  if  you  take  up  a  collection  you  will 
spile  the  whole  thing." 


You  have  heard  of  the  fool  who  said  he  never  intended  to 
go  into  water  until  he  learned  to  swim.  One  meets  another 
one  now  and  then  who  says  "he  is  not  going  to  join  the 
Church  until  he  gets  fitten." 


A  college  commencement,  graduating  class  exhibition ;  one 
young  orator's  subject,  "A  Succinct  Dissertation  on  Recent 
Outcome  of  the  Prolific  Mind  of  Man."  I  wonder  what  has 
been  the  "outcome"  of  this  young  graduate  .f* 

*   *   * 

Isn't  it  remarkable  that  the  real  innateness  of  a  man  will, 
in  times,  in  favorable  circumstances,  show  itself  and  work  to 

48 


Notes  and  Notions. 

the  surface  If  the  hog  is  in  him,  he  will  root  out ;  if  the 
tiger  is  there,  he  will  soon  show  his  claws ;  if  the  fox,  cunning, 
trickery.  And  there  are  some  mortals  that  only  need  an  out- 
ward embellislinient  of  hair,  tail  and  two  long  ears  to  resemble 
another  animal.  And  may  the  Lord  bless  and  save  all  "sorts 
and  conditions"  of  men  here  below. 


I  have  known  men  who  desire  all  the  good  things  of  earth — 
who  put  foiTvard  the  most  strenuous  efforts  to  increase  their 
annual  income  from  a  few  thousand  to  several  thousand,  but 
who  are  greatly  shocked  when  a  minister  receives  an  unusual 
amount  of  cash.  I  have  known  men  exhibit  such  a  heavenly 
mindedness,  such  a  spirituality  that  it  is  positively  refreshing 
when  we  contemplate  their  consistency  and  sincerity. 


Will  murder  "out"  ?  Some  years  ago  there  lived  in  Clark's 
Hill  a  man  named  Harling.  I  liked  Harling — he  was  sociable, 
hospitable,  and  very  entertaining — sometimes  I  feared  he 
talked  too  much.  I  have  lodged  in  his  pleasant  home  and 
supped  often  at  his  table.  He  was  devoted  to  his  family,  and 
especially  to  one  afflicted  child.  One  night  he  looked  upon 
his  affectionate  wife  and  happy  children  the  last  time  at 
the  dining  table.  After  the  meal,  and  the  baby  put  in  its 
little  cradle  bed,  Harling  walked  out  upon  the  piazza  of  his 
home,  and  by  some  party  "to  present  jury  unknown"  was  shot 
down  in  his  tracks.  How  many  years  will  it  take  to  develop 
this  murderer?  How  long  will  it  be  before  this  murder  will 
"out".? 


Some  have  said  education  would  solve  the  race  question,  and 
let  the  negro  be  educated.  I  believe  that  is  a  solution  to 
some  situations.  As  soon  as  the  negro  gets  a  little  learning, 
and  a  few  rations  ahead,  it  is  not  long  before  he,  she,  and  it, 

49 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

leaves  the  wash  pots,  cooking  stoves,  and  the  plow.  Besides, 
in  this  land  of  ours  there  are  a  whole  lot  among  'em  who  are 
half,  fourth  or  eighth  white — sins  that  have  come  upon  us 
of  past  decades — who  have  inherited  Anglo-Saxon  shrewd- 
ness and  yearning  for  independence.  A  smart  quarter  white 
in  a  dark  skin  can  put  up  a  good  argument  for  social 
equality  if  there  is  cash  and  estate  to  enforce  the  logic.  The 
whole  thing  is  in  a  mess. 

The  woman  conducted  to  the  Saviour  for  judgment  had 
created  quite  a  sensation  in  social  and  religious  circles.  She 
had  sinned  grievously  and  must  be  stoned.  The  only  differ- 
ence between  the  poor  prostitute  and  old  gowned  and  bearded 
rascals  who  were  demanding  her  death  was  that  her  sin  was 
known;  the  iniquity  of  the  others  was  hid.  When  the  time 
for  throwing  rocks  came  the  miserable  sinners  sneaked  away. 

#  «   i& 

The  moral  atmosphere  Is  always  liable  to  stinking  stirs, 
because  sin  abounds.  There  is  hardly  a  neighborhood  in 
South  Carolina  but  Is  not  visited  occasionally  by  the  sensa- 
tion storm.  Sometimes  it's  a  cyclone  affair,  involving  many. 
The  sensation  is  heightened  when  there  is  a  woman  in  It. 
The  bold  type  of  the  papers  rejoice  and  there  are  eager 
readers  who  hunger  for  the  news. 


The  butter  question  is  a  most  important  one.  The  real 
domestic  housewife  thinks  much  of  her  butter,  attends  to  Its 
making  with  the  greatest  care,  and  takes  pleasure  In  display- 
ing her  fine  product  on  the  dining  table.  This  close  atten- 
tion and  care  In  keeping  this  luxurious  article  of  diet  causes 
her  to  value  it  most  highly,  and  the  average  housekeeper  will 
go  a  long  way  to  preserve  her  butter,  and  will  defend  it  from 

50 


Notes  and  Notions. 

all  attacks.  Some  years  ago  in  Chester  there  lived  an  excel- 
lent woman  who  made  the  finest  of  butter.  An  old  lean, 
lank  dog  had  invaded  the  sacred  precincts  of  her  cupboard 
more  than  twice  and  devoured  her  butter.  She  determined 
to  have  vengeance.  She  watched,  caught  him,  pinioned  him 
and  hung  him  by  the  neck  to  a  limb  of  a  tree  in  the  orchard 
until  he  was  dead,  dead,  dead.  It  was  a  mournful  execu- 
tion ;  the  hound  died  hard,  strangled  out  of  existence.  Being 
in  the  neighborhood  at  the  time,  I  wrote  up  the  event  for 
pubHcation,  but  I  kept  out  of  the  way  of  that  good  woman 
until  after  a  big  revival  that  occurred  in  her  immediate 
vicinity.  Then  I  drew  near  and  was  fairly  well  received. 
I've  often  thought  of  Elijah  and  have  been  comforted.  He 
was  a  man  subject  to  like  passions  as  we  are.  When  Jezebel 
threatened  and  got  after  him,  he  fled  to  the  quiet  retreat  of 
the  juniper  trees  far  from  the  haunts  of  men  and  hoop-skirts 
of  wrath. 


Bishop  Coke  led  a  most  strenuous  life.  On  his  way  to 
hold  a  General  Conference  in  Baltimore  about  the  year  1792 
he  worked,  it  is  recorded,  while  at  sea,  on  "Poole's  Com- 
mentary," to  have  it  published  for  the  benefit  of  preachers 
and  people.  It  is  said  he  was  cheered  in  his  work  by  six 
canaries  that  sang  in  his  cabin.  After  years  of  profitable 
toil  and  hardships  experience  in  the  service  of  the  Master,  he 
writes :  "I  am  forty-five.     I  have  done  nothing." 

Many  modem  forty-fivers,  with  much  scholarship  and 
chatty  Chautauqua  training,  think  they  have  reached  the 
acme  of  human  excellence  and  leamedness.  Only  one  thing 
lacking,  and  that's  fame.  That  will  be  forthcoming,  they 
probably  presvune,  when  the  world  finds  them  out  and  becomes 
able  to  discern  and  appreciate  growing  genius. 


51 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

That  fuss  in  the  forties  about  the  negro  separated  saints 
and  the  synods.  The  pious  prelates  of  the  North,  pushed 
by  public  opinion,  published  slavery  a  crime.  They  had 
snow-capped  hills  and  annual  zeroes.  The  thermometer  froze 
out  the  African  and  he  couldn't  thrive  there.  The  South  had 
cotton  and  sunshine  and  a  luxurious  clime  for  this  black  fly 
in  the  ointment. 

On  one  side  there  was  no  religion  in  slavery,  because  there 
was  no  money  in  the  nigger ;  on  the  other  side  he  was  profit- 
able.    Therefore,  slavery  was  a  Christian  institution. 

Then  they  fou't. 

*  *  * 

The  descendant  of  a  New  England  Puritan  divine  has  in 
his  possession  an  old  sermon  written  by  his  ancestor  which 
shows  that  the  preacher  did  not  trust  to  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  when  delivering  his  discourses. 

The  manuscript  is  Avritten  in  a  strange,  crabbed  hand,  and 
plentifully  besprinkled  with  marginal  references.  "Read 
slowly  here,''  the  minister  admonishes  himself  in  one  spot,  and 
"To  be  given  out  very  loud  and  clear"  is  the  suggestion  for 
another  passage.  "Hurry  a  little,  with  fire,"  he  wrote  in 
several  places.  The  most  emphatic  and  important  part  of 
the  whole  sermon  is  indicated  by  a  much-underlined  marginal 
note.  After  hearing  stories  of  this  saintly  old-time  preacher, 
it  is  amusing  to  know  that  he  deemed  it  wise  and  even  neces- 
sary at  the  climax  of  his  eloquence  to  "Yell  like  one  pos- 
sessed."— Sel. 

The  grave  of  Gen.  Francis  Marion  (Berkeley  County)  is 
in  a  sad  condition  of  neglect,  and  is  not  well  enclosed.  The 
old  Marion  house,  not  over  two  hundred  yards  from  the  tomb, 
is  also  uninhabited  and  fast  decaying. 

First,  could  not  the  bones  of  the  old  hero  be  removed  to 
some  appreciative  town  or  city  that  will  give  him  a  monu- 
ment?    If  that  is  impracticable,  could  not  the  Legislature 

52 


Notes  and  Notions. 

when  it  convenes,  appropriate  a  few  dollars — about  a  hundred 
or  more — to  place  the  tomb  and  locahty  in  a  condition  it 
deserves  ? 

As  long  as  liberty  in  South  Carolina  is  valued  the  name  and 
memory  of  Francis  Mai'ion  will  ever  be  cherished  by  all 
patriotic  people, 

*   *   * 

An  old  w'oman,  whose  husband  was  ill,  sent  for  the  doctor. 
He  said:  "I  will  send  him  some  medicine,  which  must  be  taken 
in  a  recumbent  posture." 

After  he  had  gone  the  old  woman  sat  down  greatly  puzzled. 
"A  recumbent  posture — a  recumbent  posture!"  she  kept 
repeating.  "I  haven't  got  one."  At  last  she  thought,  "I 
will  go  and  see  if  old  Mrs.  Smith  has  one  to  lend." 

Accordingly  she  went  and  said  to  her  neighbor,  "Have  you 
a  recumbent  posture  to  lend  me  to  put  some  medicine  in," 

Mrs,  Smith,  who  was  ignorant  as  her  friend,  replied,  "I 
had  one,  but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  lost  it." — Sel. 


Keep  a  sharp  lookout  on  the  character  and  conduct  of  your 
grandmothers  and  grandfathers.  They  may  cause  no  little 
trouble  and  tribulation  in  this  world  below.  An  authority  in 
the  New  York  Herald  has  this  to  say : 

"A  woman  of  criminal  tendencies,  whose  occupation  was  the 
keeping  of  a  disreputable  house,  and  whose  habits  were  of  the 
lowest,  including  excessive  indulgence  in  alcoholic  stimulants, 
died  when  she  was  51  years  old. 

"This  was  in  1827.  Her  descendants  have  now  been 
traced.  They  number  800.  Seven  hundred  of  them  are 
criminals,  having  been  convicted  at  least  once.  Three  hun- 
dred and  forty-two  of  them  are  drunkards,  acknowledged  by 
all  as  such.  One  hundred  and  twenty-seven  are  immoral 
women.  Thirty-seven  of  them  are  murderers  and  were  exe- 
cuted for  their  crimes. 

53 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"This  family  has  cost  the  nation  $3,000,000,  this  being  the 
sum  paid  out  for  their  trials  and  executions." 

*  *  * 

A  Catholic  paper  relates  that  a  convent  school  when  visited 
was  found  to  be  filled  with  little  girls  of  ages  ranging  from  6 
to  16,  with  fresh  sweet  voices,  in  childish  accents  singing : 

"Of  our  passions  we  are  weary — 
Weary  of  the  yoke  of  sin." 

A  convict  prison  chapel,  when  visited  was  found  with  a 
select  and  exclusive  congregation  of  forgers,  burglars,  wife- 
beaters,  etc.,  in  stentorian  tones  giving  tongue  to: 

"Dear  angel,  ever  at  my  side. 
How  loving  thou  must  be, 
To  leave  thy  home  in  heaven  to  guide 
A  httle  child  like  me." 

This  reminds  one  of  holy  singing  of  some  modern  choirs, 
who  spend  part  of  the  week  in  dancing,  theatre  gomg,  and 
revelry  and  sing  like  angels  on  Sundays. 

The  efforts  on  the  part  of  members  of  the  House  to  pin 
one  another  down  to  direct  answers  reminded  Representative 
Capron,  of  Rhode  Island,  of  an  experience  in  the  last  cam- 
paign. Mr.  Capron  was  very  much  bothered  while  making  a 
speech  by  a  man  in  the  audience  who  insisted  on  asking  ques- 
tions to  which  he  demanded  either  "Yes"  or  "No"  for  answer. 

"But  there  are  some  questions,"  finally  remarked  Mr, 
Capron,  "which  cannot  be  answered  by  'Yes'  or  'No.'  " 

"I  should  hke  to  hear  one,"  scornfully  commented  his 
annoyer. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Capron,  "think  I  can  prove  it.  Have 
you  quit  beating  your  wife.?  Answer  'Yes'  or  'No.'  "  The 
crowd  saw  at  once  that  Mr.  Capron  had  the  man  in  a  trap. 

54 


Notes  and  Notions. 

If  he  had  said  "Yes"  it  was  a  confession  that  he  had  been 
beating  his  wife,  and  if  he  said  "No"  it  was  an  admission  that 
he  was  still  indulging  in  the  pastime. 

"Yes  or  no,"  shouted  everybody  in  the  hall,  and  in  the 
'midst  of  the  confusion  the  man  made  his  escape. 

*  *  « 

One  of  our  Bishops  in  a  college  platform  address,  in  July, 
1833,  eloquently  declaimed,  "I  look  forward  to  coming  days, 
when  the  Atlantic  shall  be  connected  with  the  Pacific  by  rail- 
roads and  canals ;  when  the  East,  with  her  rocky  shores,  the 
North,  with  her  sail-covered  lake,  the  South,  with  her  sunny 
skies  and  fertile  fields,  shall  hold  intimate  fellowship  with  the 
far  distant  West,  as  yet  an  unknown  land,  darkened  with  the 
shadow  of  unpenetrated  forest.  The  hum  of  vast  cities  shall 
break  upon  the  ear  of  the  giant  spirit  of  solitude  now 
enthroned  in  the  Western  wilds." 

The  prophet  got  there,  only  he  overlooked  chasm  of  blood 
and  the  fertile  fields  of  his  sunny  South  torn  and  rent  by  the 
most  destructive  civil  war.  He  didn't  anticipate  the  mighty 
work  and  revolutionary  power  in  electricity,  nor  did  he  dream 
of  the  motor  car  and  flying  machine.  One  on  that  same  plat- 
form might  take  today  a  most  hopeful  religious  view  of  days 
to  come:  "I  look  forward  to  coming  days  when  this  will  be 
one  united  country,  whose  God  is  the  Lord,  and  whose  uni- 
versal homage  shall  be  to  Him  whose  spirit  inspires  fraternity, 
and  leads  to  love  and  peace;  when  Methodism  will  be  a  united 
factor  for  the  evangelization  of  the  world ;  when  there  will  be 
no  Church  North,  no  Church  South,  but  one  to  the  glory  of 
the  Most  High.  Already  from  the  unanimously  adopted 
hymnal  sweet  songs  waft  the  same  note  of  praise  and  the 
same  heavenly  attuned  choruses  of  one  harmonious  strain, 
arise  from  every  altar  from  the  lakes  the  gulf,  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  ere  long  the  spirit  of  God  will 
move  in  might  with  love  and  light  upon  the  heart  of  many 
millions  and  make  us  one  again." 

55 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

It  was  a  poorly  attended  funeral.  The  relatives  were  few, 
and  the  friends  of  the  deceased  were  not  many.  The  dead  one 
had  not  been  influential  in  hfe,  and  the  death  caused  very  few 
sincere  regrets.  But  she  was  a  member  of  the  Church,  and  I 
thought,  as  the  day  was  calm  and  the  weather  propitious,  it 
would  have  been  becoming  for  a  fair  proportion  of  the  large 
congregation  to  have  turned  out,  and  thus  showed  their  Chris- 
tian respect  for  their  dead  sister,  and  sympathy  for  the  few 
relatives  that  sorrowfuly  followed  the  remains  of  their  kins- 
woman to  the  grave.  Tliis  thoughtful,  sympathetic  action 
would  have  been  to  those  few  relatives  a  strong  sermon  exem- 
plifying Christian  fellowship.  It  would  have  made  them  feel 
that  they  were  members  of  a  community  in  which  real 
fraternity  and  unselfish  love  prevailed.  It  would  have 
strengthened  the  tie  that  bound  them  to  their  Church  and  to 
their  Heavenly  Father.  The  wealthy,  and  those  who  "live 
in  king's  houses,"  when  death  comes,  have  long  funeral  pro- 
cessions, elaborate  obsequies,  much  crepe,  much  mourning ;  the 
poor,  the  rude  cofBn,  simple  shroud,  and  a  burial  paraphernalia 
that  saddens  the  eye  of  the  observer — and  the  world,  the 
Church  world,  often  seems  as  indifferent  to  their  decease  as 
they  were  regardless  of  their  welfare  when  living.  I  saw  a 
picture  once  that  impressed  me.  The  Czar  of  all  the  Russias, 
walking  near  his  palace  one  winter's  day,  met  two  or  three 
soldiers  drawing  a  sleigh  over  the  snow,  containing  the  body 
of  their  dead  comrade.  The  Czar  turned  and  followed, 
melancholy  and  slow,  the  bier  to  the  place  of  interment. 
There  doubtless  was  not  a  Russian  heart  that  was  not  touched 
and  made  to  feel  the  glow  of  kindness  when  they  read  the 
account  of  the  great  Czar  attending  the  burial  of  a  poor 
unfortunate  soldier. 

*  *   * 

She  was  buxom,  a  picture  of  a  young  healthy  matron  "at 
home,"  age  33  years.  Candor  was  a  characteristic  of  her 
conversation,  and  a  happy  smile  played  over  her  features. 

56 


Notes  and  Notions. 

"Who  were  you  before  you  married,  ma'am?" 

"Judith  Amaker  Blarney,  sir." 

"And  your  first  husband.''" 

"My  first  husband  was  a  Banks,  sir.  Billy  Banks, 
of ." 

"Ah,  indeed,  and  then  after  a  season  you  married  again.?*" 

"Yes,  sir.    My  second  was  Josiah  Ashcraft,  of ." 

"And  the  third,"  said  I,  "is,  of  course,  your  present  hus- 
band.?" 

"No,  sir.  My  third  was  Timothy  Troller,  an  old  man,  was 
the  best  of  husbands,  but  he  didn't  live  long  after  we  were 
happily  married." 

"And  so  you  have  actually  been  married  four  times,  and 
this  present  husband  is  your  fourth.'"' 

"Yes,  sir  (almost  blushing  quite  red),  Mr.  Shuman  is  my 
fourth." 

"What  were  the  ages  of  your  husbands?" 

"My  first,  Mr.  Banks,  was  a  young  man ;  my  second,  Mr. 
Ashcraft,  was  an  elderly  man ;  my  third  was  quite  an  old  man, 
and  my  fourth  Mr.  Shuman,  is  a  young  man" — and  the 
happy  smile  continued  to  play  over  her  features.  As  I  left 
this  home  of  husband  No.  4,  I  could  not  help  from  thinking 
of  the  situation.  Here,  mused  I,  was  a  lady  in  her  thirty- 
fourth  year  who  has  her  fourth  husband,  and  there  is  the  poor 
old  maid  also  in  her  thirty-fourth  year,  with  slim  prospects 
of  getting  only  one.  How  unevenly  often  are  earth's  prizes 
distributed ! 

it   *   * 

Dr.  Watkinson,  of  England,  says,  in  speaking  of  doing 
great  things  out  of  our  poverty :  "We  want  to  build  a  Church ; 
we  don't  send  for  a  drum  and  fife  band;  we  arrange  for  a 
bazaar  and  plenty  of  collecting  boxes,  and  send  all  kinds  of 
ingenious  and  pathetic  appeals.  If  we  want  to  do  anything, 
to  build  a  church  or  improve  a  church,  or  sustain  a  mission — 

67 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

anything  of  the  sort — it  does  not  rise  "Hke  an  exhalation." 
We  hare  a  Httle  meeting  in  a  vestry,  and  the  thing  is  pro- 
posed, and  the  infinite  difficulties  are  felt ;  and  then  a  man  gets 
up,  and  he  shows  that  the  thing  is  impracticable.  I  am  bound 
to  say  I  have  never  been  present  at  one  of  those  meetings  but 
that  man  was  there." 

Yes,  this  same  man  is  in  South  Carolin  and  opposes  good 
work,  and  clogs  the  wheel  of  progress.  Let  members  propose 
to  build  a  new  church,  and  times  being  hard,  he  will  oppose  it, 
and  try  to  show  that  it  is  impracticable.  The  salary  of  the 
preacher  should  not  be  raised,  it  is  impracticable,  the  assess- 
ments for  missions  are  too  high,  and  cannot  be  realized ;  there 
is  even  no  need  of  a  new  fence  around  the  graveyard.  It  is 
impracticable,  besides  not  necessary;  those  in  there  can't 
come  out,  those  out  don't  want  to  go  in. 

Oh,  this  man.  Well,  the  only  way  to  do  is  to  listen  to  him, 
and  then  go  right  ahead  and,  by  the  help  of  Providence,  build 
your  church,  and  paint  it,  too,  raise  your  collections  in  full 
and  abound  in  the  work  of  the  Lord. 


The  unregenerated  heart  is  a  dangerous  and  demoralizing 
institution.  One  thing  he  does  not:  he  "will  not  seek  after 
God ;"  one  thing  he  will  do :  he  will  commit  iniquity,  and  reveal 
the  rascal  that's  in  him  if  you  give  him  favorable  opportunity. 
"The  heart  of  the  sons  of  men  is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil." 


Crimes  are  committed  and  there  is  misery  in  the  earth 
because  the  disease  of  depravity  is  not  cured  and  controlled  by 
the  operation  of  divine  grace.  The  resolute  resistance  to  the 
wooings  of  the  Holy  Spirit  hardens  the  sinner  in  his  ways, 
drives  him  on  his  own  resources,  and  then  and  there  the  perish- 
ing begins,  of  character,  happiness  and  peace.  Finally  and 
fatally,  the  soul,  borne  down  by  lust  and  gross  sensuality, 

58 


Notes  and  Notions, 

falls  completely  under  influence  of  the  devil.     "Except  ye 
repent  ye  shall  perish." 

The  following  definition  of  "woman's  rights"  is  the  best 
we  have  yet  seen ;  we  regret  our  ignorance  of  the  author ;  her 
name  should  be  known : 

The  right  to  wake  when  other  sleep ; 
The  right  to  watch,  the  right  to  weep ; 
The  right  to  comfort  in  distress, 
The  right  to  soothe,  the  right  to  bless ; 
The  right  the  widow's  heart  to  cheer; 
The  right  to  dry  an  orphan's  tear ; 
The  right  to  feed  and  clothe  the  poor, 
The  right  to  teach  them  to  endure ; 
The  right  when  other  friends  have  flown, 
And  left  the  suff^erer  all  alone. 
To  kneel  that  dying  couch  beside. 
And  meekly  point  to  Him  who  died ; 
The  right  a  happy  home  to  make 
In  any  clime  for  Jesus'  sake. 
Rights  such  as  these  are  all  we  crave. 
Until  our  last — a  quiet  grave. 


I  saw  a  dog  once  apparently  under  deep  conviction.  It  was 
in  Modoc,  a  lovel}'-  village  among  the  hills  in  western  Edge- 
field. That  part  of  the  inhabitants  who  have  died  since  I 
left  there  I  trust  have  all  gone  regularly  to  heaven,  but  really 
there  was  a  time  when  I  thought  there  were  few  candidates. 
I  had  been  engaged  in  a  series  of  services  held  specially  for 
the  conversion  of  sinners  and  for  the  edification  of  such  saints 
as  might  happen  to  be  around.  I  preached  and  preached. 
Three  or  four  days  passed  and  not  a  penitent,  nor  a 
"mourner,"  though  the  little  chapel  by  the  railroad  was  pretty 

59 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

well  filled  every  service.  One  night  I  grew  desperate  and 
brought  all  my  guns  to  bear  on  the  well  fortified  fortress — but 
there  was  no  sign  of  surrender.  A  dog,  a  well  grown,  lean, 
lank  dog  came  in  and  squatted  in  the  middle  aisle  not  far 
from  the  door,  and  sat  intently  gazing  at  me  in  a  solemn  way. 
As  I  was  closing  he  looked  upwards  and  began  slowly  to  utter 
the  most  piteous  howls.  Young  and  old  grinned  and  giggled. 
After  the  dog  had  run  a  sort  of  howling  octave  and  stopped 
I  remarked,  "O  ye  people  of  Modoc,  I  have  labored  in  your 
midst  several  days,  I've  praj^ed  for  you,  I  have  preached  unto 
you  the  word,  but  the  only  instance  of  emotion  and  sentiment, 
the  only  animal  that  has  shown  any  penitence  or  sorrow,  has 
been  a  poor  wandering  dog.  He  has  just  responded  to  urgent 
appeals  in  the  only  way  he  knows  how."  I  dismissed  a  quiet, 
sober-minded  crowd  that  night.  That  dog  followed  me  home 
to  Parksville,  where  I  resided,  and  showed  the  sincerest  attach- 
ment to  me — until  his  owner  sought  him  and  led  him  away  with 

a  halter. 

*  *  * 

(Place,  Orangeburg  County.) 

Years  ago  a  pretty  and  winsome  lass  of  sixteen  summers  or 
more  had  two  lovers  whom  we  will  name  Damon  and  Dexter. 
Damon  was  older,  yet  truly  did  he  love  Annie  Belle.  Dexter 
wooed  more  persistently  perhaps,  with  more  dash  and  daring, 
never  faltering,  never  wavering,  until  at  last  Annie  Belle 
showed  pity  to  Dexter  and  gave  him  her  heart  and  hand. 
Damon  went  West,  and  liis  crushed  spirit  sought  surcease 
from  sorrow  in  some  quiet  valley,  resolved  never  to  love  again. 
Happy  marriage,  music  and  flowers,  and  friends  showered 
blessings  on  Dexter  and  Annie  Belle.  "At  home"  in  the  cot- 
tage by  the  roadside.  Ere  long  the  bridal  flowers  faded,  as 
all  things  here  below  must  fade,  and  real  life  began — ^the 
hard-fought  battle  began  for  competence  and  comfort.  After 
some  years,  the  blazing  hearth  burned  cheerily. 

60 


Notes  and  Notions. 

"Children  ran  to  lisp  the  sire's  return 
And  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share." 

Many  years  rolled  by  rapidly.  Dexter,  never  strong,  grew 
faint  and  weary  and  seemed  tired  of  this  life  of  toil  and 
trouble.  One  day  he  looked  up  to  heaven  and  expired.  Dis- 
consolate widow,  all  in  black  and  mourning — but  still  pretty, 
resembling  her  youth.  Letters  from  the  West,  simply  letters 
of  inquiry  from  the  same  quiet  valley  in  the  West,  after  one 
twelve-month  had  passed,  to  learn  how  Annie  Belle  fared,  and 
where  she  was — containing,  too,  words  of  condolence.  "I'd 
just  like  to  know,  Annie  Belle,  how  you  are — and  the  chil- 
dren." Damon,  now  no  longer  young,  but  the  same  Damon 
as  of  yore,  comes  from  the  quiet  valley  and  visits  the  old 
sweetheart  to  console  her  in  her  troubles.  Damon  consoled 
and  consoled,  and  continued  to  console  Annie  Belle.  This  is 
a  strange  world  here  below,  much  given  to  the  romantic. 
After  consoling,  Damon  begun  a-wooing,  and  ere  long  the 
widow,  of  course,  was  won.  And  now  at  last  Damon  is  happy 
— being  himself  consoled  with  the  thought  that  it  is  better 
late  than  never — to  scet  her. 


Perhaps  dyspepsia  is  the  most  common  ail  of  suffering 
humanity,  and  it  is  the  condition  of  many  other  diseases.  The 
physicians  can  successfully  treat  many  patients  without  seeing 
them,  or  feeling  the  pulse.  He  knows  it  is  over  eating  and 
indigestion,  and  he  can  roll  up  about  six  pills  with  this  direc- 
tion :  "Take  two  every  two  hours"  until  an  event  occurs,  very 
important  to  the  patient,  and  that  will  be  all  the  doctoring 
necessary  for  awhile. 

Some  d3'^speptics  are  fat,  and  many  are  lean.  The  fat  fel- 
low complains  of  "heartburn,"  takes  soda,  eats  his  "fill"  at 
dinner  and  feels  no  account  until  the  next  meal  when  it  is  more 
soda  and  another  "fill."  The  poor  victim  moves  on  in  the 
world  at  a  half  rate. 

61 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

There  is  loss  of  energy  and  get  up.  He  has  no  enthusiasm 
for  earth  or  heaven,  and  in  the  present  circumstances  with  his 
"fills"  and  soda,  it  will  be  a  difficult  thing  to  save  him  from  the 
devil.  Most  dyspeptics  are  lean  and  lank,  and  ofttimes  are 
nervous  with  it.  The  eye  has  lost  or  is  losing  its  luster  and 
penetrating  power.     The  jaw  covering  is  sallow  and  flabby. 

He  has  a  load  in  his  stomach,  especially  "just  after  eat- 
ing." He  shows  you  where  it  is,  puts  his  hands  there,  over 
the  big  lump  in  his  bowels.  His  biscuits  and  grease,  and 
syrup  and  coUards,  have  all  gone  down,  forming  into  a  great 
wad.  There  this  pestilence  revolves  in  darkness,  pregnant 
with  evil.  The  circulation  is  so  sluggish  the  man  becomes 
morose,  and  on  account  of  indigested  matter  there  results 
debihty  and  weakness,  mental  and  physical. 

He  is  given  to  "blues,"  and  gets  mad  at  all  creation  round 
at  times  if  the  wad  continues.  If  unfortunately  married  he 
will  raise  a  row  with  his  wife  about  the  most  insignificant 
thing,  if  he  is  not  scared  of  her.  If  a  button  is  off^  his  loose- 
fitting  pants,  or  is  not  sewed  on  in  the  right  place,  he  quarrels 
and  will  be,  in  this  and  other  things,  more  or  less  snarlly  and 
snappy. 

The  dyspeptic  is  rarely  licentious.  That  is  not  his  beset- 
ting sin.  In  addition  to  his  irritability  and  moral  cowardice 
he  is  covetous  in  the  extreme.  He  is  poor  giver  generally, 
and  yields  slowly  to  appeals  of  charity.  He  is  so  much  con- 
cerned about  himself  and  his  bowels  that  he  is  unable  to  extend 
kind  thoughts  and  helping  hands  to  others. 


The  greatest  suff'erer  in  this  land  of  ours  is  perhaps  pure 
and  lovely  woman.  It  is  said  about  one  out  of  five  hundred 
is  free  from  pain  and  ph3^sical  trouble.  Some  time  since  I 
congratulated  a  good  sister  on  her  apparent  fine  health,  when 
she  replied,  "Ah,  Bro.  Wilkes,  I  never  see  a  well  day."  There 
are  many  who  never  see  a  well  day. 

62 


Notes  and  Notions. 

The  far-away  look,  the  nervous  eye,  the  heaving  sigh  in 
moments  of  abstraction  often  betoken  internal  troubles. 
Sometimes  there  is  melancholy,  and  the  mind  wanders  in  twi- 
light and  shadoMS. 

There  is  loss  of  vivaciousness,  though  the  bloom  may  still 
be  in  the  cheek,  and  the  song  of  her  life  now  becomes  low  and 
plaintive.  Ah,  that  great  curse,  seen  everywhere,  female 
trouble.  Writes  a  well-known  physician :  "Woman's  peculiar 
constitution  renders  her  doubly  susceptible  to  injurious  influ- 
ences and  a  resulting  series  of  diseases,  from  which  the  other 
sex  is  entirely  exempt.  Physically  and  mentally,  woman  is 
man  modified,  perfected,  the  last  and  crowning  handiwork  of 
God.  When,  therefore,  this  structure  so  wonderfully  endowed, 
so  exquisitely  wrought,  and  performing  the  most  delicate  and 
sacred  functions  which  God  has  ever  entrusted  to  a  created 
being,  is  disturbed  by  disease,  when  the  nicely-adjusted  bal- 
ance of  her  complex  nature  deviates  from  its  true  and  intended 
poise,  the  most  efficient  aid  should  be  extended  in  order  that 
the  normal  equihbrium  may  be  regained,  her  health  restored 
and  her  divine  mission,  on  which  human  welfare  so  largely 
depends,  fulfilled. 


63 


PART  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  Mill  Village  Scene. 

I  had  noticed  that  the  old  couple  were  extremely  fond  of 
each  other.  They  had  shared  each  other's  joys  and  sorrows 
for  many  long  years  together,  and  now  in  old  age  they 
seemed  more  than  ever  to  lean  on  each  other  for  mutual 
help,  sympathy  and  consolation.  They  had  traveled  about 
from  mill  to  mill,  from  village  to  village  over  the  State  until 
the  roaming  habit  had  become,  it  seems,  almost  essential  to 
their  well-being  and  existence.  Probably  the  moving  about 
from  mill  to  mill  continually  inspired  the  hope  that  it  was 
better  further  on,  and  kept  them  looking  for  some  valley 
of  rest,  some  place  that  would  give  satisfaction,  contentment 
and  repose.  Their  earthly  possessions  were  few  and  of  the 
simplest  kind.  They  owned  not  a  foot  of  land,  nor  "no  cot- 
tage in  the  wilderness."  The  old  man  was  a  sort  of  a  mill 
supernumerary.  From  the  "boss"  of  a  room  he  once  held  in 
his  prime,  and  a  general  "loom  fixer,"he  had  descended  to 
menial  and  lowly  occupations  and  would  often  sweep  the 
floors,  or  carry  buckets  of  water  at  his  fifty  cents  a  day,  in 
the  large  mill  hard  by  the  river.  Their  children  all  grown 
and  mostly  married  off,  had  families  of  their  own  and  were 
moving  about  the  same  old  way — their  lengthy,  weary  rounds 
among  the  mills,  scattered  here  and  there  over  the  broad  land. 
So,  therefore,  the  aged  couple  for  bare  existence  and  bread 
had  to  fight  their  battles  alone.  Their  poverty  was  of  a  kind 
that  tends  to  harden  the  sensibilities  and  smother  the  soft,  gen- 
tle impulses  of  the  human  heart.  It  was  of  that  cruel  kind 
that's  disposed  to  paralyze  the  ennobling  passions,  and  "freeze 
the  general  current  of  the  soul."  It  was  a  financial  condition 
that  doesn't  attract  friends  in  this  life.  It  was  a  state  of 
existence  that  doesn't  conduce  to  favors  from  mankind,  gen- 

67 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

erally,  here  below.  Ah,  how  long  will  such  dire  poverty  exist 
in  this  God-favored  land  of  ours !  The  Lord  of  Heaven  once 
promised  a  highly  favored  people  if  they  would  be  obedient 
and  loyal  they  would  have  all  the  comforts  and  conveniences 
of  life  heart  could  wish.  When  will  those  who  now  tramp, 
tramp,  the  treadmills  around  us  be  fed  with  the  "finest  of 
wheat"  and  the  honey  out  of  the  rock?  Amidst  much  pov- 
erty and  chilling  circumstances  I  was  impressed  with  the 
unfeigned  love  that  existed  between  this  aged  pair.  They 
seemed  shut  up  to  themselves  with  two  minds  that  thought  as 
one.  Cupid  dehghts  to  hover  over  the  hearts  of  kings* 
daughters  and  revel  in  homes  of  opulence  and  ease.  It  is 
most  difficult  and  most  rare  for  immaculate  conjugal  love  to 
hold  its  own  midst  the  want  and  strife  of  abject  poverty. 
They,  these  poor  people,  were  as  ignorant  as  they  were 
poverty-stricken.  There  had  been  great  impoverishment  of 
mind,  the  light  of  the  intellect  had  about  gone  out,  and  there 
was  a  darkness  that  could  be  felt.  This  disastrous  circum- 
stance added  to  the  horror  of  the  situation.  The  husband 
was  older  and  the  feebler  of  the  two.  One  autumn  day  I 
noticed  his  steps  were  few  and  slow,  and  I  clearly  saw  that 
ere  long  he'd  succumb  to  wasting  disease  and  to  the  growing 
infirmities  of  old  age.  After  the  lapse  of  a  few  weeks  I 
returned  to  the  village  and  upon  inquiry  I  learned  he  had  died. 
I  visited  the  cottage  and  heard  the  sad  story  from  the  grief- 
stricken  wife  and  disconsolate  widow.  The  very  language 
was  perfect  only  in  accents  of  the  heart's  grief,  and  the  nasal 
prolonged  intonations  of  the  voice  tremulous  with  feeling  seem 
specially  adapted  to  dole  out  the  wails  of  woe.  "Jerry,"  she 
would  say,  midst  sobs  and  the  blinding  tears,  "Jerry  never  got 
over  that  last  spell.  Hit  knocked  the  sperrit  clean  out  of 
'im  somehow,  and  he  wont  the  same  Jerry  no  more.  Poor  ole 
f el-low!  He'd  creep  about  and  follow  me  Hke  a  leetle  chield 
and  would  say,  'Birdie,  doncher  leave  me  now.'  'Nay,'  sez  I, 
*Jerry,  I'll  never  leave  ye,  and  I'll  love  ye  as  long  as  grass  is 

68 


A  Mill  Village  Scene. 

green,  and  as  long  as  flows  yander  bright  river  by  the  mill.' 
And  the  poor  ole  fel-low  would  smile  and  look  like  his  ole  self 
again.  But  he  got  weaker  and  weaker.  He'd  give  way  in 
the  knees  and  I'd  have  to  lead  him  about.  Last  Chuesday 
he  took  to  his  bed,  and  he  never  riz  any  more.  All  day  Friday 
he  kept  callin'  me,  and  sez  he,  'Birdie,  I  can't  see.  Is  the  river 
a-runnin'?'  'Yes,'  sez  I,  'hit's  a-runnin',  and  I'm  right  here 
by  ye.'  Towards  the  turn  of  the  day  he  began  to  hiccup,  and 
I  saw  Jerry  was  a-gwine.  I  laid  meself  down  beside  him  and 
took  him  by  the  hand,  and  sez  I  to  comfort  him  a  leetle,  sez  I, 
'Jerry,  we  are  both  passing  away.  Look  at  me,  Jerry;  look 
at  my  eyes  and  my  ole  rinkley  face!  Don't  you  see  we  are 
both  gwine  together?'  The  poor  ole  fel-low  did  look  so  pite- 
ful  as  he  turned  his  glassy  eyes  on  me  for  the  last  time.  He 
kinder  gasped  a  time  or  two,  and  fetched  a  long  breth,  and — 
he  was  gone." 

Amidst  all  this  poverty  of  hearth  and  poverty  of  home, 
there  was  the  bright  illumination  of  pure  conjugal  love  which 
shone  brighter  and  brighter  as  chill  death  closed  the  earthly 
scene.  In  this  earthly  realm  there  is  a  law  of  compensation 
that  runs  throughout  universal  being,  and  permeates  every 
kingdom  and  every  sphere.  Often  in  palaces  there  are  the 
grim  skeletons  in  the  closets,  and  heartaches  and  matrmonial 
misery.  In  this  cottage  of  chill  penury  and  want  there  was 
that  unfaltering  love  which  made  brilliant  the  otherwise  dark- 
ened doorway,  and  as  an  angel  of  light,  it  produced  a  peace 
and  a  happiness  unalloyed  to  the  dying  pillow. 

The  next  day  at  eventide  they  put  the  body  of  poor  Jerry 
in  a  rude  pine  coffin,  and  the  place  of  burial  was  a  high  knoll 
— where  the  grass  will  ever  grow  green,  and  hard  by  the 
brig-ht  river  that  will  flow  on  forever. 


69 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

CHAPTER  II. 

"All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men." 

"Oh,  that  we  could  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us."  Brother 
Jass  Simmons  is  a  dihgent  pastor,  and  goes  in  and  our  rapidly 
and  regularly,  but  one  is  not  downright  certain  whether  all 
this  work  is  for  himself  or  really  done  for  that  love  of  Christ 
which  constrains  him.  That  he  is  conceited  is  beyond  a  doubt ; 
that  he  may  be  unconsciously  and  habitually  deceitful  is 
highly  probable.  When  he  will  become  thoroughly  sane  and 
perfectly  cured  is  a  question  of  time — possibly  not  until  the 
flesh  is  wasted  and  dissolution  is  near. 

*  *  * 

Brother  Titus  Tarheel  has  been  expressing  a  desire  to 
enter  into  the  kingdom  for  many  years.  He  has  been 
known  to  say  often  to  the  Lord,  "Thy  kingdom  come;  Thy 
will  be  done."  A  few  years  ago  he  became  involved  in  debt. 
To  avoid  paying  he  "made  over"  to  his  wife  his  large 
landed  estate.  The  transfer  defrauded  the  creditors  and  kept 
the  Tarheels  comfortable  and  in  easy  circumstances.  From 
that  estate  they  expect  at  some  time,  when  "the  fitful  fever  of 
life  is  o'er,"  to  make  a  triumphant  entry  into  the  kingdom  of 

God. 

*  *  *  •      - 

Scene — Preachers'  tent  camp-meeting.  Occasion — Going 
around  examining  beds.  Rev.  Bosworth  Blinker  soliloquizes : 
"Ah,  now  while  there  is  no  other  near  I'll  select  my  bed.  This 
one  (feeling)  is  too  hard;  this  one  is  near  the  window — sudden 
currents  of  air  endanger  my  health.  Let's  see ;  this  bed's  too 
old,  too  old — germs  of  disease  may  lie  there  concealed.  Ha ! 
here  is  the  bed,  here  is  the  couch  upon  which  my  weary  self 
must  slumber  and  sleep.  The  others  can  take  care  of  them- 
selves.    I  am  the  best  man,  I  need  the  best  things — the  best 

70 


"All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men." 

bed,  the  finest  fare,  the  armchair,  the  highest  place  at  the 
feast.  I  am  thankful  that  there  are  marks,  lines  and  differ- 
ences here  below,  and  in  the  heavens  one  star  doth  differ  from 
another  in  glory." 

The  next  day  Brother  Blinker  preached  on  "The  child  in 
the  midst,"  and  as  he  preached,  at  times  he  wept. 


Brother  Tim  Prankey  is  a  good  layman,  pays  his  church 
dues, 'mighty  moral,  very  quick  and  jumpy  in  and  about 
church — in  fact,  a  handy  fellow — but  he  has  the  same  sort 
of  characteristics  that  delicately  shades  the  spirit  of  Brother 
Jass  Simmons.  He  talks  to  his  pastor  sweetly  and  piously, 
and  when  good  opportunity  presents  itself  stabs  him  in  the 
back  most  effectively.  It  is  said  that  Prankey,  before  his 
conversion,  while  engaged  in  the  mercantile  business,  was 
unreliable  and  was  given  at  times  "to  ways  that  are  dark  and 
tricks  that  are  vain." 


The  Rev.  M.  L.  Peacock  preaches  eloquently  and  fervently 
on  the  grace  of  humility,  but  his  arrogancy  is  beyond  ques- 
tion, and  his  general  gait  and  gear  demonstrate  that  he  has 
far  more  pride  than  piety;  organ  of  self-esteem  abnormally 
developed,  and  his  dignity  and  complacency  are  quite  im- 
pressive. 

*  *  * 

Letter  heads :  "The  Rev.  M.  T.  Elevator,  D.  D.,  Rose  Val- 
ley, Ala."  Envelopes :  "Return  to  the  Rev.  M.  T.  Elevator, 
D.  D.,  Rose  Valley,  Ala."  Walking  cane,  inscription  on: 
"The  Rev.  M.  T.  Elevator,  D.  D."  On  the  doorplate  of  par- 
sonage :  "The  Rev.  M.  T.  Elevator,  D.  D."  And  I  do  pray 
that  all  human  beings  will  not  forget  to  say,  or  write :  ^''Doc- 
tor M.  T.  Elevator:' 


71 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

The  Snooks'  residence,  6  P.  M.  Scene — Front  room,  the 
family  of  Snooks  seated. 

Mrs.  Snooks,  looking  out  the  window,  sees  a  traveler  coming 
in  the  distance:  "Lor'  me!  I  do  believe  yonder  comes  old  man 
Josiah  Trotter.  I  just  said  he'd  come.  He  preaches  tomor- 
row at  Pisgah." 

Abraham  Snooks:  "What  sort  of  a  horse  is  it?  Is  it  a 
bay.?" 

Mrs.  S. :  "No,  it's  that  old  flop-eared  sorrel  you  have  fed 
here  so  much,  and  old  Josiah  Trotter  is  behind  there  holding 
the  lines,  or  I  am  not  standing  here." 

Abraham:  "Well,  I'll  declare !" 

Mrs.  S. :  "It  looks  hke  the  old  thing  comes  here  every  Sat- 
urday evening,  just  because  it  is  convenient  to  Pisgah — and 
my !  I'm  tired  of  it.  I  didn't  want  to  have  anything  but  a 
cold  supper  tonight — but  here  he  comes,  and  a  chicken  is  to  be 
killed,  and  coffee  to  prepare.  Lor'  me !  I  do  wish  the  old  thing 
had  gone  somewhere  else  this  evening." 

Little  Peter  Snooks:  "Well,  ma,  you  needn't  to  tell  me  to 
run  myself  down  after  the  chicken.  I  just  ain't  going  to  do 
it  for  the  old  thing." 

Mrs.  S. :  "Hush,  Peter." 

Nellie  Snooks :  "Oh,  he  shore  Hkes  chicken.  Don't  you  re- 
member, Pete,  when  he  was  here  before  he  ate  both  the  gizzards 
outen  the  chicken  pie.'"' 

Peter :  "Yes,  I  does." 

Mrs.  S. :  "Hush,  Peter ;  hush,  Nellie.  Go,  Abraham,  he  is 
at  the  gate.  I  knew  it  was  Trotter  and  the  old  flop-eared — " 
(Exit.) 

Abraham  (at  the  gate)  :  "Why,  how  do  you  do.  Brother 
Trotter .''  Glad  to  see  you.  Alight  and  come  in.  Wife  has 
just  been  looking  for  you.'' 

Trotter:  "Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Brother  Snooks. 
How  is  Sister  Snooks?" 

Abraham:  "Oh,  quite  well,  sir." 

72 


"All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men." 

Trotter:  "And  little  Nell  and  Peter?" 

Abraham:  "Lively  as  crickets,  sir,  lively  as  crickets — both 
anxious  to  see  Uncle  Trotter.  They  speak  so  often  of  Uncle 
Trotter." 

Sister  Snooks  (meeting  them  at  front  door)  :  "Why,  howdy 
do,  Brother  Trotter.  We  are  indeed  glad  you've  come  to 
spend  the  night  with  us.  I  had  just  said  to  husband  that  I 
feared  you  had  passed  us  by  this  time.  Come,  come  in,  dc 
come  in,  and  be  at  home."      (Curtain.) 


I  believe  that  Simmons,  Peacock,  Tarheel,  Dr.  M.  T.  Ele- 
vator, Prankey,  Mr.  and  Mrs,  Snooks  do  all  live  and  flourish 
in  this  world  of  ours — all  having  their  strong  weaknesses  and 
their  faults  and  failings  which  time,  training  and  Christian 
culture,  it  seems,  cannot  eliminate.  They  will  all  pardon  me, 
I  hope,  for  being  purely  personal,  for  real  reformation  and 
repentance  cannot  be  effected  sometimes  until  we  "see  ourselves 
as  others  see  us." 

Some  years  ago  I  was  associated  occasionally  with  a 
preacher  who  manifested  nmch  zeal  in  his  efforts  to  do  good 
and  persuade  men.  He  would  address  men  bluntly  in  season 
"and  out  of  season  in  reference  to  their  soul's  salvation  and 
sometimes  showed  more  pious  earnestness  than  prudent  polite- 
ness. On  one  occasion,  a  Sunday  afternoon,  being  in  the 
neighborhood  holding  religious  services  he  accosted  an  Irish- 
man who  had  not  been  in  the  habit  of  attending  the  church 
regularly. 

Preacher:  "Well,  sir,  you  didn't  go  out  to  church  today." 

Irishman :  "Nay ;  a  pain  in  the  lour  part  of  me  bock  I'm 
suffering  from." 

Preacher:  "Well,  I  hope  you  are  trying  to  serve  the  Lord 
and  be  a  Christian." 

Irishman :  "Wal,  I  can't  say ;  I've  enemies,  sir." 

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The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Preacher:  "Enemies?  Listen  to  this:  'If  thine  enemy  be 
hungry  gi^^e  him  bread  to  eat,  and  if  he  be  thirsty  give  him 
water  to  drink;  for  thou  shalt  heap  coals  of  fire  upon  his 
head.'  " 

Irishman,  in  great  astonishment:  "What  ye  tell  me? 
Heap  fire  upon  the  puir  mon's  head  Nay,  sir,  I'd  niver  do 
that.  That  would  be  bastly.  I'd  take  a  borrel  stave  to  'im, 
but  I'd  niver  think  of  pooting  coals  of  fire  upon  the  puir 
mon's  head." 


PURELY   PERSONAL. 

Nearly  everybody  will  read  personals.  The  philosopher 
and  the  gravedigger  will  peruse  with  almost  equal  eagerness 
brief  and  breezy  accounts  of  men,  women  and  children  pub- 
lished in  the  columns  of  the  daily  or  weekly  newspaper.  This 
is  because  of  a  general  fondness  for  the  concrete,  and  a  gen- 
eral and  widespread  dislike  of  the  abstract.  The  following 
personals  will,  I  trust,  mend  and  make  wise,  and  will  not  give 
unnecessary  offense: 

Mrs.  Rosa  Snoggles,  of  Lovely  Vale,  is  downright  smart — 
far  too  smart,  I  have  thought,  for  the  comfort  and  conveni- 
ence of  those  in  her  environment.  She  talks  well,  and  often 
too  much.  She  is  handy  in  raisng  funds  for  a  decaying, 
church,  and  collecting  cash  to  buy  household  and  kitchen  fur- 
niture for  the  parsonage.  When  she  has  raised  the  funds  for 
the  one  and  collected  cash  for  the  other,  her  heart's  desire  is 
to  boss  the  whole  business — and  will  do  so  if  you  give  her  half 
a  chance.  When  her  good  husband  wants  to  take  a  chew  of 
tobacco,  or  enjoy  a  cigar,  he  knows  where  to  go^ — out  in  the 
backyard  on  the  woodpile.  Sister  Snoggles,  I  think,  will  grow 
in  grace  and  get  real  good  when  she  becomes  old — ^very  old. 

*  *•  * 

The  Rev.  Josiah  Spangles  and  Sister  Jemima  Spangles  are 
a  happy,  religious  looking  couple  when  in  repose;  especially 

74 


"All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men." 

does  Brother  Josiah  seem  so  when  in  deep  slumber,  and  not 
snoring.  But  when  the  couple  are  aroused  and  annoyed,  or 
worried  and  flurried,  they  ere  long  manifest  the  infinnitics 
of  weak  human  nature.  Their  home  has  been  known  to  be 
sort  of  a  small  stonn  center,  with  fearful  tendency  of  becom- 
ing cyclonic.  Old  man  Josiah  will  come  in  from  a  long  trip 
and  fuss  at  meals  about  soda,  soup,  or  something.  He  will 
just  quarrel  with  Sister  Spangles,  who  will  take  it  all  pleas- 
antly for  awhile,  but  directly  her  temper  will  rise,  and  she  will 
show  more  spirit  in  a  quarrel  in  three  minutes  than  Spangles 
in  a  whole  hour.  There  is  always  a  great  calm  then.  It  may 
not  be  the  proper  condition  to  be  so  disposed,  but  I've  always 
felt  somewhat  grateful  that  Sister  Spangles  had  sufficient 
nerve  and  temper  to  head  off  and  overcome  the  old  man  when 
his  fits  of  peevishness  and  dire  wrath  come  on. 


Dr.  Quintillius  Spanker  is  a  steward  of  the  church  in  the 
town  of  Wellville.  He  is  a  druggist,  and  sells  an  abundance 
of  pills  and  panaceas  for  cash,  and  I  am  told  on  good  author- 
ity that  the  country  boys  coming  into  the  town  of  Wellville 
in  a  thirsty  condition  or  very  cold,  or  somewhat  in  colicky 
pain  or  needing  a  quart  for  "campliire,"  can  easily  buy  the 
liquor  from  Dr.  Spanker.  He  is  a  nice  man,  up-to-date, 
proud,  and  very  strutty,  and  his  preacher  will  hardly  do  any- 
thing material  or  spiritual  without  first  advising  with  Dr. 
Quintillius  Spanker. 

*  *  * 

Walter  Taggy  and  Bill  Snell,  both  flourishing  members  of 
the  dude  society  of  SparktowTi,  and  who  worship  (the  Lord 
have  mercy)  in  Grace  chapel,  attended  with  Miss  Snoggles 
and  Miss  Pinkey  the  grand  ball  on  Friday  night  and  were 
present  at  a  funeral  in  Grace  chapel  the  following  Sunday 
moniing.  The  body  was  that  of  a  sweet  young  girl  who 
passed  away  before  she  was  fifteen,  and  she  was  dying  when 

75 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

that  Friday  evening  ball  in  Sparktown  was  in  progress. 
What  saddens  the  picture  still  more  is  that  Walter  Taggy 
and  Bill  Snell  were  two  of  the  pallbearers ! 


Soraet  time  ago  a  young  Georgian  saw  the  handwriting  and 
note  in  the  possession  of  one  of  our  Berkeley  girls.  He  fell 
in  love  immediately  with  the  pretty  and  attractive  chiro- 
graphy,  and  vowed  that  if  he  could  he'd  court  and  marry  the 
girl  who  wrote  the  "pretty  hand."  A  correspondence  fol- 
lowed. He  met  the  girl  who  handled  the  pen  so  artistically 
only  once.  He  wooed  and  won  the  fair  hand  and  they  were 
happily  married. 

*  *   * 

Mr.  Thos.  Spilvey,  leading  steward  of  St.  Charles'  church, 
M.  E.  Church,  South,  attended  a  sumptuous  feast  at  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Stakey's  home  last  Thanksgiving  Day  and  returned 
home  very  drunk.  Mr.  Spilvey  may  believe  in  the  doctrine 
of  free  grace,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  has  any  hesitancy 
in  appropriating  free  liquor. 

St.  Charles  made  a  fine  financial  report  at  the  last  Annual 

Conference. 

*  *  * 

How  this  old  world  is  given  to  all  sorts  of  things.  Mr. 
Jerry  Pumper  mourned  at  60  mightily  over  the  recent  death 
of  his  dear  and  deceased  wife.  He  planted  sweet  flowers  over 
her  grave,  and  would  not  be  comforted.  Actually  it  was  not 
six  months  before  Brother  Pumper  was  courting  and  wooing 
a  big  buxom  lass — a  farmer's  daughter — and  marry  her,  he 

just  would! 

*  *  * 

The  Rev.  Simon  Peter  Spokane  was  once  an  enthusiastic 
admirer  and  a  most  enthusiastic  imitator  of  the  late  Rev.  Sam 
Jones.  On  one  occasion,  during  religious  services  he  was  con- 
ducting, while  he  was  scorching  the  sinner,  and  showing  sins 

76 


"All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men." 

of  today  in  movable  electric  picture  style,  one  or  two  auditors 
arose  and  walked  out  of  the  church.  Brother  Spokane  be- 
came violently  indignant.  "Now,"  said  he,  "if  there  are  any 
more  soreheads  that  wish  to  go,  they  can  rack  out."  About 
half  of  the  congregation  "racked" — leaving  the  irate  apostle 
with  a  hopeless  minority. 

The  Shad  Town  News  speaks  very  complimentary  of  Miss 
Nina  Pinchback,  though  her  performances  are  somewhat 
varied:  "Miss  Nina  Pinchback,  after  a  pleasant  sojourn  at 
the  popular  summer  resort,  shines  again  in  the  realms  of 
society.  At  the  popular  whist  club  last  Friday  evening  she 
won  the  game  and  was  awarded  a  most  valuable  premium. 
Last  Sunday  evening  in  the  church,  after  a  learned  discourse 
by  Dr.  M.  T.  Elevator  on  "Heavenly  Recognition,"  Miss 
Pinchback  at  the  close  of  the  solemn  service  sang  in  her  sweet- 
est tones,  "We'll  know  each  other  there."  Miss  Nina  excelled 
herself,  and  the  congregation  were  carried  away  by  her  im- 
pressive attitude  and  melodious  song." 

There  is  no  place  where  good  common  sense  and  decent 
decorum  is  in  more  demand  than  in  the  sick  room  on  the  part 
of  those  who  come  to  visit  the  invalid,  or  show  sympathy  for 
the  suffering  patient.  The  right  sort  of  visitors  are  always 
welcome  to  the  sick  room.  The  other  sort  should  by  all  means 
stay  away.  Those  who  can  easily  dispense  smiles  and  sun- 
shine prove  to  be  a  most  invigorating  tonic.  The  graveyard 
faces  who  chatter  about  the  bedstead  in  suspicious  whispers 
are  almost  enough  to  cause  the  suffering  mortal  to  take  a 
speedy  relapse.  Many  are  acquainted  with  Sister  Peggy 
Spreckles.  She  thrives  in  most  communities  in  South  Caro- 
lina. She  has  a  nervous  temperament,  rather  buxom  body, 
a  quick  movement  when  the  least  excited,  and  an  expression  at 
times  over  grave  and  at  other  times  over  gay.     She  has  QQn- 

77 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

erally  thin  lips  that  form  a  mouth  incHned  to  pucker,  and  two 
small  eyes  set  close  together  over  an  aquiline  nose,  that  seem 
inclined  to  want  to  see  everything  and  pry  into  everything. 
Her  voice  is  sometimes  soft  and  cooing-like,  at  other  times  it 
assumes  a  more  masculine  tone.  She  has  an  humble  appear- 
ance when  she  is  out  a-visiting,  especially  the  sick.  Her 
white  apron  makes  her  face  and  that  nose  all  the  redder,  and 
the  underskirts  are  so  stiff  and  starchy  that  they  make  quite 
a  noise  when  she  walks  and  on  her  uprisings  and  downsittings. 
Oh,  this  Sister  Peggy  Speckles !  Nothing  in  the  neighbor- 
hood happening  can  so  stir  her  and  quicken  her  movements  as 
these  two  things :  a  birth  attended  with  fearful  probabilities, 
and  a  very  ill  person  whose  life  is  almost  despaired  of  by 
physician  and  distressed  relatives  and  friends.  He  is  a 
young  man,  for  instance,  who  has  been  sick  quite  awhile  and 
his  symptoms  suddenly  gi'ew  more  pronounced  and  somewhat 
alarming.  The  loved  ones  are  in  a  state  of  great  anxiety, 
and  the  physician  has  said  that  there  was  only  "a  chance." 
Sister  Spreckles  hears  of  this,  and  she  immediately  buckles 
on  her  armor  of  white  apron  and  starched  clothes,  and  pro- 
ceeds rapidly  to  the  sick  chamber.  Upon  her  arrival  she  seats 
herself  and  after  saluting  those  near  her  in  a  grave  whisper, 
she  begins  to  stare  at  the  young  sufferer  with  wild  wondering 
eyes.  The  patient  is  very  pale  and  poor,  and  is  lying  on 
elevated  pillows,  with  his  eyes  closed,  but  not  asleep.  Mrs. 
Speckles  begins:  "Poor  fellow,  for  all  the  world  looks  just 
like  Mrs.  Jones'  brother  just  before  he — !"  This  was  spoken 
in  a  loud  whisper,  but  the  patient  could  not  distinctly  hear  the 
last  word.  Directly  the  patient  is  seized  with  a  coughing 
spell,  and  attendants  assist  in  relieving  him  of  the  spittle  that 
came  to  his  mouth.  Mrs.  Speckles  peers  over  and  views  with 
intense  interest  the  process,  and  again  she  whispers  to  one 
near  her,  "Poor  Jimmie  Jones  was  just  that  way!  He'd 
cough  and  cough,  and  what  he'd  spit  up  would  be  just  as 
yaller,  for  all  the  world  as  the  yaller  of  an  aig."     And  other 

78 


"All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men." 

symptoms  Mrs.  Speckles  would  note  as  just  like  the  symptoms 
of  Jimmie  Jones,  deceased.  Ere  long  with  a  lingering  look 
at  the  sick  man,  whase  eyes  are  still  partly  closed,  as  if  he 
were  a  ghost,  Mrs.  Spreckles  departs.  The  sick  young  man 
had  seen  more  than  others  thought  he  had  seen,  and  had  heard 
far  more  than  friends  thought  he  had  heard.  He  needed 
smiles  and  sunshine,  and  the  shadow  of  death  had  visited  him 
instead. 


I  met  and  had  a  pleasant  conversation  the  other  day  with 
Mrs.  Blankenshop.  She  is  an  agreeable  person,  of  fairly 
good  health,  and  about  45  years  of  age.  She  is  not  a  genu- 
ine widow  lady,  yet  she  is  an  unfortunate,  a  lamentable  sort  of 
widow,  too.  This  kind  of  widowhood  to  which  Mrs.  Blanken- 
shop belongs  is  not  thought  of,  I  don't  think,  by  the  apostle 
when  he  speaks  of  visiting  the  "widows  in  their  affliction" — 
and  yet  they — Mrs.  Blankenshop  and  others — have  been 
sorely  treated,  and  experience  the  saddest  of  afflictions.  They 
need  the  consolation  of  the  gospel  and  pastoral  visiting.  The 
real  widow  is  a  person  in  black  skirt  and  hat,  with  a  very 
black  "streamer"  behind,  whose  dear  husband  departed  this 
life  with  good  prospects  of  heaven.  The  Blankenshop  widow 
is  a  person  not  in  black,  but  in  red  or  brown,  whose  husband 
has  not  departed  this  life,  but  who  has  wandered  off  no  one 
knows  where,  with  fair  prospects  of  winding  up  in  i*uin  and 
Mreck,  leaving  the  forsaken  wife  alone  to  paddle  her  own 
canoe.  She  is  called — this  Blankenshop  sort  of  a  widow  (I 
dread  to  mention  the  term)  "a  grass  widow — and  I  fear  there 
are  not  a  few  of  Blankenshops  in  South  Carolina.  I  found  a 
few  evenings  since  when  I  strolled  to  the  humble  dwelling  of  ^ 
Mrs.  Blankenshop  that  she  had  an  independent  air,  good  car- 
riage, optimistic  views,  and  ready  and  willing  to  talk,  as  most 
good  women  are. 

W. — "Mrs.  Blankenshop,  I  am  very  sorry  to  leani  of  your 


79 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

lonely  situation ;  but  I  trust  you  are  meeting  the  ups  and 
downs  of  life  bravely." 

Mrs.  B. — "Oh,  yes,  sir ;  you  see  two  of  my  children  are  with 
me,  and  they  have  good  jobs,  and  I  make  a  good  deal  with 
my  needle.  Of  course  I  feel  sometimes  as  if  I  was  a  real 
widow.  Mr.  Blankenshop  left  me  without  a  word  of  warning 
some  five  years  ago." 

W. — "Ah,  indeed — without  a  word  of  warning!  Were 
there  no  premonitions,  no  threat  of  any  kind.''" 

Mrs.  B. — "No,  sir.  You  see,  Peter  Blankenshop  was  a 
curious  man.  Sometimes  he  was  as  good  and  kind  to  me  as 
any  husband.  He'd  come  home,  all  smiles,  and  bring  me 
something  from  the  store,  and  would  say,  'Here,  my  dear,  you 
see  I  thought  of  you  today.'  Oh,  yes,  Peter  was  kind  some- 
times. And  then  again  he'd  come  in  like  a  storm  and  quarrel 
with  everybody  and  everything,  and  the  children  were  scared 
of  him  when  he'd  come  in  that  way.  And  I  tell  you  another 
thing,  I  have  known  Peter  to  pray  in  a  prayer  meeting !" 

W. — "It  was  during  that  period,  I  presume,  when  he  would 
bring  you  something  sweet  and  nice  from  the  store  and  call 
you  'my  dear.'  " 

Mrs.  B. — "That's  right.  And  then  again  he  would  stop 
going  to  church  and  prayer  meeting,  and  he'd  become  stormy 
and  abusive  again." 

W.— "He  left  you  suddenly,  did  he.?" 

Mrs.  B. — "Yes,  sir.     He  went  aboard  a  ship  at , 

bound  for ,  and  I  have  never  heard  of  him  since." 

W. — "Well,  he  may  come  back  one  of  these  days  a  changed 
man,  and  bring  you  nice,  pretty  things  again  and  call  you 
'my  dear.'  " 

Mrs.  B. — "Yes,  he  may,  so  he  may." 

W.  (here  I  thought  of  poor  Enoch  Arden,  who  has  caused 
the  tears  to  stand  a  long  time  in  my  eye,  and  I  said  to  her) — 
"Let  me  advertise  in  the  Advocate  for  him,  noting  the  pecu- 
liarity of  person,  etc.?     Did  he  have  any  peculiar  feature.?" 

80 


Monck's  Corner. 

Mrs.  B. — "The  reddest  head  of  hair  you  ever  saw — high 
check  bones — and  his  nose  was  long — and  his  eyes  was  close 
together — and  he  sorter  shuffled  as  he  walked." 

W. — "Well,  I  could  advertise  in  the  Advocate,  the  hair, 
nose  and  shuffle  of  Peter  Blankenshop,  and  just  add  that  any 
information  concerning  him  would  be  rewarded ;  that  his  loved 
one  is  sorrowing  for  him  and  praying  for  his  return,  etc." 

Mrs.  B. — "No,  no!  Let  him  be,  let  him  be!  If  he  is  dead 
he  might  er  been  carried  off  in  one  of  his  pious  fits,  and  he 
would  be  better  off ;  and  if  he  is  a  living  let  him  stay  where  he 
is,  and  I'd  be  better  off." 

So  Mrs.  Blankenshop  is  passing  the  days  in  her  humble 
dwelling,  and  while  she  is  far  from  being  happy,  she  seems 
comparatively  contented  with  her  lonely  lot  and  seems  inclined 
to  look  forward  to  brighter  prospects  and  happier  days. 


CHAPTER  III. 

Monck^s  Corner. 

One  evening  last  Spring  after  a  long  and  tedious  drive  I 
arrived  at  a  little  village  called  Monck's  Corner,  the  capital 
of  Berkeley  County.  There  is  only  one  way  the  citizens  from 
far  and  near  can  reach  their  court  house  who  live  in  the 
larger  western  and  northwestern  part  of  the  county,  and  that 
is  by  private  conveyance,  or  else  by  rail  via  Charleston. 
I  had  driven  about  thirty- three  miles  from  the  Four  Hole 
section  through  the  Briner  Swamp,  and  the  Dean  Swamp, 
and  the  Wasamasaw,  and  Black  Tom,  Katou  Bay,  six  miles 
wide,  and  other  bays  and  swamps.  The  day  was  dark  and 
dreary,  and  ever  and  anon  sudden  showers  of  rain  would  fall 
which  made  traveling  through  an  unromantic  country  as  un- 
pleasant as  it  was  wearisome.  Mr.  Chapman,  in  his  history 
of    South    Carolina,    writing    of    Gen.    Marion's    exploit    at 

81 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Monck's  Comer,  says :  "Learning  that  a  body  of  one  hundred 
prisoners,  taken  at  Camden,  were  on  the  way  to  Charles  Town 
under  a  strong  guard,  Marion  determined  to  effect  their 
rescue.  Placing  his  men  in  ambush  near  Monck's  Comer  he 
succeeded  in  taking  the  whole  party,  British  as  well  as  Amer- 
icans." The  country  continues  to  abound  in  swamps,  tliick 
undergrowth  and  woodland,  and  would  afford  ambush  for 
hundreds  of  men  today. 

The  little  town,  not  far  from  the  western  fork  of  the 
Cooper  River,  seems  to  have  been  bom  with  good  intentions, 
but  ere  long  the  sad  situation  and  atmospheric  environment 
checked  and  thwarted  the  growth  of  the  child  of  promise,  and 
it  has  fallen  into  that  state  of  inertia  and  premature  old  age 
from  which  it  will  hardly  recover  for  some  years.  No  din  of 
shop,  nor  hum  of  electric-moving  machinery  disturb  its  solemn 
quietness.  There  is  a  settled  calmness  over  the  place  that 
bespeaks  of  the  industrial  cemetery,  and  the  winds  of  past 
years  have  already  moaned  out  the  funeral  hymn  of  great 
earthly  achievements.     But  even  in  this  plac 

"Some  mute  inglorious  Milton  here  may  rest 
Some  Cromwell  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood." 

Some  lad  may  here  be  making  tracks  in  the  sand  that  will 
be  the  future  Governor  of  a  great  Commonwealth,  or  one  that 
will  develop  such  an  exalted  character  that  he  would  "rather 
be  right  than  be  President." 

It  may  be  that  a  bright  industrial  resurrection  mom  awaits 
Monck's  Corner — who  knows  the  contrary  The  day  of  the 
electric  trolley  is  coming.  The  day  of  a  great  drainage 
enterprise  may  be  soon  at  hand,  and  if  both  good  days  come 
to  the  "Comer"  it  might  produce  marvelous  effects  and  con- 
vert it  into  a  richly  picturesque  city  in  a  land  "flowing  with 
milk  and  honey." 

The  Corner  and  community,  however,  are  in  greater  need 
of  atmosphere  than  moneyed  marts  of  trade  and  traffic.     It 

8S 


Monck's  Corner. 

needs  more  climate  than  cash.  The  death-rate  generally  in 
this  and  sections  similar  is  not  so  great,  and  you  will  find  here 
and  there  fine  specimens  of  vigorous  manhood  and  the  round 
laughing  face  of  the  beautiful  girl,  but  the  average  docs  not 
present  such  a  hopeful  outlook.  Stagnant  water  and  sobby, 
water-soaked  "bays"  have  a  fearful  tendency  to  enervate 
blood,  brain  and  bowels,  and  chill  the  energy  and  enthusiasm 
of  the  awakening  mind.  In  a  land  of  swamps,  and  midst 
areas  of  still  and  stagnant  waters  it  is  difficult  to  bring 
forth  a  genius,  or  create  an  enlightened  specimen  of  spirited 
godliness.  If  the  very  flat  portions  of  our  low  country  could 
be  thoroughly  drained  it  would  prove  a  blessing  in  health  and 
happiness  to  thousands,  and  would  be  worth  to  the  State  mil- 
lions in  manhood  and  money. 

The  court  house  at  Monck's  Comer  stands  majestically  on 
a  sandy  elevation  amidst  small  pretty  young  pine  trees  about 
one  mile  from  the  depot.  It  was  court  week,  and  I  attended 
part  of  one  evening's  session.  The  whole  scene  appeared 
primitive — the  court  of  justice  in  an  old  field,  with  the 
solemn  accompaniment  of  a  fine  brick  jail  very  near,  eating 
saloon  in  one  of  the  offices  on  the  first  floor  of  the  court  house ; 
horses  of  all  sorts,  colors  and  previous  conditions  hitched 
around,  and  citizens  from  Wasamasaw,  "Black  Tom,"  "Hell 
Hole,"  Four  Holes  and  from  other  holes  and  places,  in  holiday 
attire,  stand  in  yard  and  corridors,  chatting,  laughing  and 
eating  peanuts,  or  chewing  or  smoking  tobacco  earnestly. 

I  accosted  one  citizen  in  a  broad-brim  hat  whom  I  thought 
was  the  largest  and  tallest  in  the  crowd.  Looking  up,  said  I : 
"Six  feet  four,  sir.?"  "Yes,  and  more,"  was  the  reply.  "I'm 
six  feet  six."  Looking  down,  I  remarked:  "Number  elevens .f*" 
"Missed  it  again,"  he  said,  "number  twelves !"  "Where  are 
you  from?"  I  inquired,  and  the  man  of  height  and  with  the 
firm  foundation  answered,  "I  am  from  Hell  Hole,  sir." 

When  the  hour  arrived,  the  "court  crier"  cried  out  in  the 
usual    way,    and    all    the    citizens    above   mentioned   quietly, 

83 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

promptly  marched  up-stairs  to  their  places,  the  jurymen, 
witnesses,  the  lawyers,  the  auditors,  and  all,  sedately  sat  down 
and  confronted  the  honorable  judge  seated  on  his  throne. 
The  case  before  the  jury  involved  fifty  acres  of  disputed  pos- 
session, two  strong-winded  lawyers  and  two  vehement  speeches 
somewhat  on  a  phonographic  order,  with  the  too  oft-repeated 
refrain,  'Now,  Mr.  Foreman  and  gentlemen  of  the  jury." 
When  the  last  strain  of  eloquence  of  the  learned  lawyers  had 
died  away,  amidst  the  pines  outside  surrounding,  the  judge 
charged  the  jury,  clearly  defined  the  law  and  plainly  analyzed 
the  situation.  The  "Mr.  Foreman  and  gentlemen  of  the 
jury"  retired  to  their  room,  and  it  was  not  long  before  they 
"found  a  verdict."  Ere  the  sun  went  down  the  court 
adjourned.  The  big  fat  sheriff  took  in  charge  the  body  and 
parts  of  the  judge  himself,  extending  hospitality;  the  jury- 
men, witnesses  and  lawyers  retired  to  their  lodging  places,  the 
citizens  of  Black  Tom  and  Hell  Hole  to  their  haunts  and 
homes,  the  jailor  to  attend  to  his  prisoners,  and  court  house 
and  premises  were  soon  as  silent  as  a  church  in  a  country 
graveyard. 

There  is  such  a  sameness  in  character  and  calamities  among 
the  people  of  this  revolving  globe.  Hardly  a  hamlet  in  this 
land  of  ours  but  has  its  tragic  tale  to  tell — its  sad  story  of 
sin  to  narrate  involving  a  wrecked  life  and  a  crushed  heart.  I 
had  not  been  in  this  quiet  little  nook  of  the  universe — the 
Monck's  Comer — very  long  ere  I  was  by  sad  contemplation 
led  to  thoughts  like  these :  There  is  no  barrier  strong  or  high 
enough  to  avert  the  pollution  and  poison  of  that  evil  and  subtle 
One  who  is  permitted  to  roam  this  world,  to  wither  and  wreck, 
to  curse  and  destroy.  There  is  no  hallowed  garden  that  can 
prevent  his  entrance;  there  is  no  earthly  paradise,  however 
sweet  may  be  its  foliage  or  sacred  its  precincts,  that  can  debar 
his  intrusion.  There  is  the  home  once  filled  with  bridal  song 
of  joy  and  happiness,  now  a  place  of  gloom  and  heart-aches, 
not  on   account  of  disease,   or  death,  but  loss   of  conjugal 

84 


The  Jig  and  the  German. 

love — a  poor  trembling  wife — deserted.  Or  may  be  it  is  the 
corrupted  boy,  grown  dissolute  and  dissipated  who  brings 
grief  to  the  mother's  heart — worse  than  death.  Or  else,  per- 
chance, it  is  the  once  sweet,  innocent  girl  led  away  from  pure 
paths — now  fallen  ! 

If  angels  ever  look  down  upon  earth  and  shed  tears  they  do 
not  weep  over  a  sadder  scene  than  this. 

Adieu,  dear  old  village  of  the  plain. 

Rude,  unique,  the  like  one  cannot  find  again. 

May  a  kind  Providence  grant  thee  peace  and  plenty,  and 
may  the  sunshine  of  His  love  ever  linger  round  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts of  home  and  hearthstone. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Jig  and  German. 

"It  is  contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  Discipline  and  of  the 
New  Testament  to  practice  promiscuous  dancing  anywhere." 

That's  in  the  Discipline.  It  forbids  the  "taking  of  such 
diversions  as  cannot  be  used  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  Jesus." 
That  same  little  book  says  further:  "Amongst  these  indulg- 
ences which  cannot  stand  this  solemn  test  is  the  modern  dance, 
both  in  its  private  and  in  its  public  exhibition,  as  utterly 
opposed  to  the  genius  of  Christianity  as  taught  by  us." 

The  promiscuous  dancing  is  where  the  danger  lies.  The 
Discipline  would  give  the  widest  range  for  the  feet  of  men 
conspicuously  shuffling  together  in  dreamy  waltzes.  There  is 
implied  in  the  tenn  "modern,"  scant  clothing. 

I  fear  dancing  is  fast  becoming  a  popular  exercise  now, 
especially  at  summer  resorts.  Frequently  associations  of 
some  sort,  except  my  brethren,  the  Baptists,  will  meet  at  the 
springs  and  wind  up  the  affair  at  a  big  ball. 

85 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Recently  scores  of  dental  gentlemen  met  at  Harris  Springs, 
talked  about  the  grinders  and  filling  teeth  and  closed  discus- 
sions hilariously  in  a  dance. 

The  old  veterans  will  meet  in  Chester  soon,  and  I  dare  say 
w^ill  cut  pigeon  wings.  Yes,  I  note  that  some  tuneful  orchestra 
has  already  been  engaged  for  the  ball. 

The  churches  generally  denounce  dancing.  The  Baptist, 
Presbyterian,  and,  I  think,  the  Associate  Reformed,  will  bring 
a  fellow  before  the  church  on  account  of  that  fantastic  toe. 
The  Methodists  cry  aloud  against  it — and  that's  about  all 
that's  done  generally. 

It  can  be  demonstrated  that  this  jig  business  is  far  from  a 
virtuous  institution,  and  goes  very  far  sometimes  from 
original  righteousness. 

0  sweet,  pretty  girl,  with  laughing  brown  eyes  and  cheery 
cheek,  arms  in  a  state  of  nature  and  mercy,  in  the  low  cuts,  I 
say,  you  may  be  as  innocent  as  an  angel,  but  the  t'other  fellow 
ain't. 

A  friend  recently  related  to  me  the  following  horrible  facts : 
A  young  lady  returning  home  at  3  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in 

the  town  of  ,  from  a  ball,  was  taken  violently  ill. 

The  next  morning  the  symptoms  became  alarming ;  that  even- 
ing at  6  o'clock  she  died.  When  they  were  about  to  bury  the 
body,  the  coffin  careened  to  one  side,  the  screws  gave  way  and 
the  shrouded  corpse  fell  into  the  open  grave.  About  the 
same  hour  her  baby  girl,  in  charge  of  a  nurse  at  the  home  of 
a  relatives,  swallowed  a  shoe  button.  It  lodged  in  the  wind- 
pipe. A  surgical  operation  was  performed,  but  resulted 
fatally.  A  few  days  after  the  last  event  the  other  child,  a 
pretty  girl  about  six  years  old,  fell  in  the  yard  while  playing 
and  a  sharp  tack  penetrated  the  skin  of  the  temple.  Blood 
poison  ensued  and  she  died. 

1  remember,  when  a  child  in  Chester  County,  I  attended  the 
obsequies  of  a  lady  who  had  danced  at  a  picnic  on  the  identical 

86 


The  Jig  and  the  German. 

plank  that  two  days  afterwards  covered  the  coffin  in  her 
grave. 

"Is  there  any  harm  in  dancing-?"  Sometimes  that  qiiestion 
is  put  to  the  preacher,  or  a  voluntary  opinion  is  declared  by 
a  hopeful  mother,  "I  don't  think  there  is  anything  wrong  in 
an  innocent  waltz.  Young  people  should  have  amusement." 
I  once  called  on  a  brother,  whom  I  thought  had  a  little  church- 
ianity  at  least,  to  go  over  a  mile  or  more  and  assist  in  laboring 
with  a  member  who  had  permitted  dancing  in  his  house  the 
previous  evening.  I  was  surprised  to  learn  his  family  had 
been  there,  too,  and  he  modestly  justified  the  jig. 

This  undoubted  evil  is  gaining  ground  in  places,  and  these 
charming  summer  resorts  will  make  the  business  dangerously 
popular.  The  modern  society  is  mostly  low-necked  and  sleeve- 
less, and  revels  in  suppers,  flowers  and  the  german.  There 
can't  be  any  so-cie-ty  without  the  dance  and  the  whirling, 
lascivious  waltz.  I  notice  sometimes  that  an  entire  religious 
community  is  involved  in  this  society  business.  Generally, 
take  a  list  of  the  participants  of  a  fashionable  ball,  and  you 
will  find  names  that  will  startle  you.  The  parents  of  many 
of  those  silk-skirted  skippers  and  swallow-tailed  swingers  will 
sit  piously  on  Sundays  in  pews  and  look  as  solemn  as  statues. 
They  are  all  members  of  the  Church. 

Recently  the  News  and  Courier  severely  criticised  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Stuart's  sermon  denouncing  dancing  as  dangerous  and 
devilish,  delivered  in  Charleston  some  time  since.  Mr. 
Stuart's  argument  was  that  the  hours  of  the  ball  were  object- 
ionable, being  from  9  P.  M.  to  3  A.  M.,  when  human  nature 
was  weakest,  that  the  dress  is  most  voluptuous  and  the  posi- 
tions assumed  in  the  dance  were  most  corrupting.  "And  yet 
some  parents  allow  their  daughters  to  dance  in  order  to  make 
them  graceful.  I  would  rather  my  daughter  would  be  as 
awkward  as  a  cow  in  heaven  than  to  be  as  graceful  as  a  fairy 
in  hell.  And  where  is  the  person  that  was  ever  made  purer 
by  the  dance.?"     To  which  the  News  and  Courier  in  part  adds : 

87 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"The  evils  of  the  ball-room  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the 
evil  of  the  low  and  vulgar  imaginings  of  preachers  who 
preach  as  this  revivalist  has  been  preaching." 

The  evils  are  present  because  favorable  conditions  are 
there,  and  the  unregenerate  "heart  is  fully  set  to  do  evil." 

If  the  preacher's  denunciation  of  the  dance  is  evil  imagin- 
ings, then  the  revelation  of  man's  depravity  in  the  Bible  are 
evil  imaginings.  The  evil  imaginings  is  the  product  of  the 
wild  whirl  of  the  waltz,  and  not  in  the  preacher's  mind.  He 
was  on  practical  lines  pointing  to  a  fearful  fact  that  can  he 
demonstrated.  Says  Spurgeon:  "The  caperings  and  wan- 
tonings  of  the  ball-room  are  death  to  the  solemn  influences  of 
our  ministry,  and  many  an  ill-ended  life  first  received  its  bent 
for  evils  amid  the  flippances  of  gay  assemblies  met  to  trip 
away  the  hours." 

Reading  the  other  day,  I  came  across  this  narrative:  "A 
pious  woman  had  one  son,  who  grew  up  gay  and  dissipated. 
She  followed  him  with  prayers  and  entreaties,  but  all  seemed 
unaviling.  He  one  day  said,  'Mother,  let  me  have  my  best 
clothes ;  I  am  going  to  a  ball  tonight.'  She  urged  him  not  to 
go,  but  all  in  vain.  As  he  was  going,  she  said,  'My  son, 
remember  when  you  are  dancing  I  shall  be  praying  to  the 
Lord  to  convert  your  soul.'  At  the  ball,  instead  of  the  usual 
gayety,  an  unaccountable  gloom  pervaded  the  whole  assembly. 
One  said,  'We  never  had  so  dull  a  meeting  in  our  lives.'  The 
young  man  felt  his  conscience  smitten,  and  said,  'I  know  what 
is  the  matter ;  my  poor  mother  is  now  praying  for  her  ungodly 
son.'  He  took  his  hat  and  said,  'I  will  never  be  found  in  such 
a  place  as  this  again.'  From  that  night  he  began  to  pray 
for  mercy.     His   mother's   prayer  was   heard   for  his   con- 


Three-fourths  of  the  outcasts  had  a  man's  arm  around 
them  for  the  first  time  when  they  were  young  girls  at  a 
social  party  or  dance. 

88 


The  Jig  and  the  German. 

There  are  2,500  abandoned  women  in  San  Francisco. 
Prof.  LaFlarris  says :  "I  can  safely  say  that  three-fourths  of 
these  women  were  led  to  their  downfall  through  the  influence 
of  dancing." 

The  matron  of  a  house  for  fallen  women  in  Los  Angeles 
says:  "Seven-tenths  of  the  girls  received  here  have  fallen 
through  parties,  dancing  and  its  influence." 

"Would  to  God  that  I  had  never  entered  a  dancing 
school,"  said  an  unfortunate  one. 

Of  200  girls  in  the  brothel,  163  admitted  that  they  were 
there  "through  dancing  schools  and  the  so-called  parties,  or  a 
more  appropriate  name  for  them,  'the  devil's  protracted  meet- 
ino-.'  " — Faulkner's  "From  the  Ball-room  to  Hell" 


THE  LAST  DANCE. 

"One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six."  The  town  clock  was  toll- 
ing the  evening  hour  as  the  dying  girl  half  turned  her  head 
and  listened. 

"One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,"  the  pale  lips  counted 
softly,  and  the  faintest  glow  of  excitement  shone  a  moment 
on  the  marble  cheek. 

"Six  o'clock ;  I  must  be  dressing  for  the  ball ;  I  wear  my 
white  silk,  with  lilies  at  the  throat." 

She  was  dreaming  of  the  grand  ball  that  was  to  have  been 
that  night,  the  last  of  the  season. 

"It  will  be  my  last  dance  this  season,"  she  whispered. 

Ay,  the  very  last ;  the  watchers  turned  away  to  hide  their 
faces  from  the  agonized  mother,  who  bent  sobbing  above  her 
dying  child,  busy  with  her  last  toilet. 

"Ah !  the  effect  is  good ;  those  buds  are  fit  to  bloom  in  para- 
dise.     I  look  well  tonight." 

She  was  all  ready  now,  and  half  waved  her  small,  white 
hand  as  in  the  motion  of  a  fan,  then  said  merrily :  "I  am  com- 
ing, Frank ;  almost  ready." 

89 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

She  was  going  now,  going  down  to  meet  her  lover,  and  the 
careless  lips  were  trying  to  hum  a  measure  of  the  old  Danube 
waltz,  whose  strains  she  had  followed  to  the  very  portals  of 
eternity. 

The  watchers  shivered  with  dread,  while  the  mother  hid  her 
face  in  the  pillow  beside  the  fair  girl  dancing  out  to  meet 
Death,  and  sobbed  aloud. 

The  revel  was  almost  over,  and  the  dying  belle  laid  her  hand 
on  the  bowed  head  beside  her,  and  said :  "Frank,  do  you  hear 
that  music?  It  is  the  last  waltz.  Hurry  or  I  shall  miss  it. 
Is  it  not  lovely,  that  old  Danube  strain?  Listen!  how  it 
floats  away — away — away.  Faster;  you  are  lagging — away 
— away — away." 

The  white  arms  were  lifted  for  the  lover's  clasp,  but  Death 
was  weary  of  the  farce  and  struck  them  down. 

The  dance  was  over ;  the  lights  of  the  ball-room  were  begin- 
ning to  flicker,  and  the  dancer  was  very  tired.  She  moved 
uneasily,  sighed  wearily,  and  spoke  more  slowly  and  softly, 
the  passion  in  the  voice  all  gone:  "Frank,  where  are  you? 
Home — take — me  home.     It  is  getting — dark — now." 

Ay,  dark !  the  watchers  shuddered  at  the  horror  of  it,  and 
the  frantic  mother  put  her  hands  over  her  ears  when  the  girl 
said:  "Why  don't  the  music — stop?     It  is — out  of  tune." 

Demons  are  twanging  the  cords  which  jarred  on  dying 
ears. 

The  girl  shivered  and  whispered:  "Cold — go  faster — it  is 
late." 

Ay,  late;  too  late!  They  were  going  fast,  and  the  girl 
nestled  close  in  the  pillow,  and  said,  so  softly  they  could 
scarcely  hear:  "Nearly  home — go  fast — freezing — go — " 

They  thought  she  was  dead,  but  she  sigher,  shivered  and 
said:  "We  stayed — too  long — but — my — last — partner — " 

He  had  come  to  claim  her;  the  belle  of  the  ball  was  dead; 
the  last  partner  was  Death ;  and  they  had  drifted  out  together 
to  the  music  of  sobbing  and  tears. 

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South  Carolina  Conference  Scenes. 

The  fairy  form  was  robed  in  the  white  silk,  and  lily  buds 
nestled  upon  the  lifeless  breast;  Death  held  her  in  a  clasp 
closer  than  the  lover's  had  been ;  the  ball  was  over,  but  he  still 
held  her;  the  music  was  ended,  the  lights  gone,  but  still  the 
beautiful  dancer  lay  quietly  in  the  arms  of  her  last  partner — 
Death. — Nashville  Christian  Advocate. 


CHAPTER  V. 

South  Carolina  Conference  Scenes. 

Appointments  by  the  Bishop  for  the  year  18 — :  Rev.  A. 
B.,  of  Seaside,  to  Roundville  Circuit.  Rev.  C.  D.,  of  Round- 
ville,  to  Seaside. 

After  appointments  were  read,  C.  D.  and  A.  B.  meeting: 
C.  D. — "Say,  here,  if  you  are  pleased  to  remain,  I'd  be  pleased 
not  to  move."  A.  B. — "All  right,  sir,  I'd  be  delighted  to  stay 
if  you  wish  Roundville  another  year." 

It  was  done,  the  bargain  was  made.  No  change.  That 
year  both  died — one  from  natural  causes ;  the  other  by  gun- 
shot wound — accident. 

*  *   * 

Conference  to  a  good  member :  "What  will  you  have,  sonny 
— you  fill  a  station  appointment  now  ?" 

Member:  "An  agency  job  for  the  Conference,  if  you 
please." 

Years  glide. 

Conference:  "What  do  you  want  now,  sonny  " 

Member:  "Editorship  of  a  religious  paper,  if  you  please." 

Years  pass. 

Conference :  "Now,  we've  given  you  this  and  granted  you 
that ;  what  will  you  have  now.?" 

Member:  "A  circuit,  if  you  please." 

He  got  a  good  place  at  last. 

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The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Two  or  three  elders  meet  Rev.  Bozy  Blankety,  who  has  a 
heavy  heart — Elders:  "Now,  Blankety,  having  at  heart  the 
honor  of  the  Conference,  tell  us  as  your  friends  all  about  this 
domestic  trouble." 

Blankety:  "Why,  you  see,  brethren,  I,  a  widower,  had  six 
children,  and  I  married  a  widow  who  had  five  children,  and 
the  children  grew  and  waxed  strong." 

Elders :  "Ah,  yes.  There  soon  arose  clashes  of  interests  in 
your  home?" 

Blankety:  "Yes,  verily.  There  were  conflicts  within  and 
fightings  without.  The  neighbors  were  disturbed,  scandal 
arose — and — and — I'm  done,  and  undone.  Here  are  my 
credentials."      (Exit.) 

A  worldly  wife,  and  a  home  of  strife, 
Drives  many  a  saint  from  the  heavenly  life. 

A  Fourth  Quarterly  Meeting  Occasion — Scene :  Oak  Ridge 
Station. 

Caucus  of  Stewards — ^First  Steward:  "See,  here,  the  Pre- 
siding Elder  will  nominate  today,  I'm  dead  sure,  John  Size- 
more  for  District  Steward.  That  won't  do.  He  is  not  the 
man." 

Second  Steward:  "You're  right." 

Third  S. — "I  say  so,  too — let  us  have  the  man  that  will 
represent  Oak  Ridge  station,  an  up-to-date  man." 

First  S. :  "You  know  the  Presiding  Elder,  when  the  calls 
Question  26  has  the  right  to  nominate  the  steward.  We 
have  the  right  to  elect  or  reject.  See  here,  let  us  not  con- 
firm or  elect  Sizemore,  and  let  us  make  him  put  in  our  man, 
Sam'l  Melton  Speckley.  Brethren,  we  need  such  a  man  on 
the  District  Board  now.  He'll  talk ;  he'll  speak  out  his  mind. 
He  is  sharp  as  a  briar  and  shrewd  as  a  witch." 

Second  S. :  "That's  what  I  say ;  Speckley  is  the  man." 

Third  S. :  "So,  so ;  nothing  against  Sizemore,  but  Speck- 

92 


South  Carolina  Conference  Scenes. 

ley  is  against  that  per  cent,  plan,  and  will  tell  'em  something." 

Others:  "That's  right." 

First  S. :  "I  see  the  Presiding  Elder,  by  the  way,  going 
'round  the  corner  towards  the  church.  Let  us  separate  and 
depart." 

Second  S. :  "Won't  Speckley's  election  be  a  stunner  to 
him.?" 

Third  S. :  "Yes ;  but  it's  time  presiding  elders  were  learn- 
ing their  dooty!" 

First  S. :  "Let  us  be  going — and  see  here,  let  us  approach 
the  church  in  diiFerent  ways,  innocently." 

The  Quarterly  Meeting — Question  26th:  "Who  is  elected 
District  Steward  .f"' 

P.  E. :  "I  nominate,  brethren,  the  same  brother  we  had  last 
year — John  Wesley  Sizemore." 

Stewards  first,  second  and  third,  "and  others,"  voted  "No." 

P.  E.  "Well,  brethren,  according  to  the  Discipline  of  our 
Church  it  is  my  duty  to  nominate  the  District  Steward,  and 
yours  to  elect.  I  nominate  another  man,  since  you  reject 
Bro.  Sizemore.     I  place  in  nomination  Nathan  Quick." 

Stewards  first,  second  and  third,  "and  others,"  quickly 
voted  "Nay." 

P.  E. :  "Well,  I  nominate  Josiah  Strong." 

Stewards  first,  second  and  third,  "and  others,"  voted  con- 
trary. 

P.  E. :  "I  feared  you  brethren  had  not  been  capering  'round 
here  this  morning  for  nothing,  and  that  there  was  some  scheme 
planned.  Your  trap,  however,  is  easily  discerned  and  will 
hardly  catch  your  game.  I  put  in  nomination  for  District 
Steward  to  represent  Oak  Ridge  another  of  your  brethren. 
Dandy  G.  Fletcher." 

Same  as  before.     No  election. 

P.  E. :  "The  nominations  are  closed,  brethren,  so  far  as  I'm 
concerned.     I  have  put  before  you  four  good  men.     You  have 

93 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

rejected  every  one.     Oak  Ridge  is  without  a  District  Steward, 
and  it  is  your  work." 
(Conference  adjourns.) 

Stewards'  Caucus  No.  2 — First  Steward:  "I  will  de- 
clare-!" 

Second  S. :  "Did  you  ever.?  That  old  P.  E.  is  certainly  a 
hard  case." 

Third  S. :  "I  tell  you,  we  will  get  him ;  we  will  down  him. 
Did  he  not  say  we  had  been  "capering" — and  something  about 
a  "trap.?"  "Caper"  and  "trap,"  you  see,  ground  for 
charges.     The  Conference  meets  soon.     Let  us  do  our  dooty." 

(Exeunt.) 

Session  of  Annual  Confeence,  the  Bishop  in  the  Chair — A 
Member  of  the  Conference :  "Bishop,  I  ask  a  ruling  upon  the 
following:  When  a  Quarterly  Conference  refuses  to  elect  a 
person,  or  persons  nominated  by  the  Presiding  Elder  for 
District  Steward,  is  the  Presiding  Elder  bound  to  continue 
to  make  nominations  until  the  entire  Board  of  Stewards  is 
exhausted.?" 

Bishop:  "He  is  not." 

(It  is  so  much  more  profitable  for  Christian  stewards  and 
other  people  to  be  found  walking  in  the  integrity  of  the 
heart,  than  "capering  'round"  and  setting  "traps.") 

*  *   * 

Investigating  Committee  to  Prisoner-Preacher:  "Who  are 
you.?" 

Prisoner-Preacher :  "I  am  the  man — accused." 
In.  Com. :  "And  you  did  not  pay  the  debts.?" 
Pris. -Preacher:  "No,  sir.     My  salary  was  small,  my  fam- 
ily was  large,  I  went  in  debt  and  ar — a — " 

In.  Com. :  "Well,  brother,  we  are  not  responsible  for  the 
large  family  and  the  small  salary,  but  we  are  responsible  for 

94 


South  Carolina  Conference  Scenes. 

your  honor  and  truthfulness — as  long  as  your  name  is  on 
the  roll.     Here  are  the  charges.     Are  you  guilty.?" 

Pris.-Preacher :  "Guilty — in  that  I  have  not  paid." 

In.  Com. :  "You  must  go — farewell." 

Pris.-Preacher:  "Alas!     Good-bye — " 

(I  wonder  where  today  is  our  wandering  boy — for  is  he 
not  still  ours.?) 

*  *   * 

"Hello,  Brother  Preacher,  what  are  you  doing  out  here  by 
the  street  sitting  on  the  wood  pile.?" 

"Well,  I  am  out  here  to  enjoy  my  cigar.  My  wife  don't 
allow  smoking  in  the  house." 

(The  preacher  with  the  cigar  is  right.  It  is  better  to 
endure  a  wood  pile  in  peace  than  a  fireside  of  fuss.) 

*  *   * 

Dignified  and  Reverend  Dr.  Amos  Tuttle  at  Conference, 
to  preachers  grouped  near  main  entrance:  "No,  sir,  there  is 
too  much  secularity  among  the  preachers — too  much  yearn- 
ing for  filthy  lucre. 

"  'No  cottage  in  the  wilderness. 
No  land  do  I  possess.' 

Every  one  should  be  able  with  myself  to  say  that." 

A  Questioner :  "How  much  life  insurance  do  you  carry  now, 
Dr.  Tuttle.?" 

Tuttle:  "Well,  let  me  see.  Why,  I  carry  five  thousand, 
sir." 

Really,  Dr.  Amos  Tuttle  is  speculating  in  futures,  likely 
giving  $1  for  $5  or  more,  and  as  his  spirit  goes  to  heaven  his 
body  and  bones  turn  into  cash  and  coin.  Dr.  Amos  Tuttle, 
therefore,  is  much  given  to  secularity. 

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The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Committee  on  Conference  Relations  to  Old  Circuit  Rider: 
"Well,  brother,  you  have  finished  your  task ;  you  will  have  to 
stop." 

0.  C.  R.:  "What?  Finished  my  task?  You  want  to  put 
me  on  the  superannuated  list,  I  see,  and  I  believe  I'd  rather 
die.     What  are  your  reasons?     What  are  your  grounds?" 

Committee:  "A  sort  of  general  decline — they  say." 

O.  C.  R. :  "General  decline !  Why,  did  you  hear  my  re- 
port? Everything  paid  in  full,  sir,  and  I've  done  as  much 
pulpit  work  this  year  as  any  young  man  in  the  Conference. 
Some  Sundays  I  preached  three  times.  Sunday  before  Con- 
ference I  preached  twice,  raised  my  collections  for  the  benevo- 
lences of  the  Church,  conducted  a  funeral,  baptized  three 
children,  married  a  couple,  ate  a  hearty  supper  and  slept  all 
night — and  you  come  to  me  talking  about  a  general  decline?" 

Committee :  "But,  brother,  it  is  said  you  are  absent-minded 
and  preach  the  same  sermon  over  and  over  again." 

O.  C.  R. :  "Same  sermon?  Absent-minded?  Well,  may  be  I 
have  been  absent-minded  where  my  own  personal  interests  were 
involved.  It  may  be  I've  been  too  absent-minded  with  refer- 
ence to  laying  up  for  a  rainy  day.  As  to  preaching,  I've 
added,  line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  and  I've  preached 
scores  and  scores  of  times  from  the  text:  'Ye  must  be  bora 
again.'  I  do  so  because  'ye  must  be  born  again,'  or  you  can- 
not enter  the  kingdom  of  God." 

Committee :  "Really  we  advise  you  to  take  a  rest.  You  are 
old,  and  there  are  complaints  that  you  cannot  walk  about  and 
visit,  that  your  legs  give  out.' 

O.  C.  R. :  "Legs  ?  Why,  man,  let  us  measure,  let  us  meas- 
ure. Let  us  take  the  circumference  of  legs,  and  mine  will 
prove  to  be  as  large  as  some  of  yours.  I  acknowledge,  how- 
ever, that  I  do  lack  in  leg  power  now.  I  am  not  at  all  swift, 
but  I  don't  totter.  I  am  a  little  unsteady  at  times,  but  I  don't 
fall.     And  so,  if  you  want  younger  legs,  and  are  tired  of  my 

96 


"Some  Village  Hampden." 

old  sermons  and  my  absent-mindedness,  why  I'll  just  give  it 
up — I'll  superannuate. 

Sad  scene,  twelve  months  afterwards :  The  old  circuit  rider 
and  wife  by  an  humble  cottage  fireside  on  $200  a  year! 

*   *   * 

Bro.  Sandy  falls  out  with  another  preacher  and  speaks  his 
mind:  "Yes,  sir,  Tim.  Spanner  did  wrong  me.  I  do  not 
speak  to  him.  I  purpose  not  to  speak  to  him.  I  will  have 
nothing  to  do  with  him  whatever." 

Bro.  Spanner  is  no  more ;  the  flowers  on  his  grave  have  long 
since  faded. 

Bro,  Sandy  is  aging  fast  and  bowing  to  the  weight  of 
years. 

Will  there  be  reconciliation  in  heaven? 

And  will  he  "speak  to  him"  there.? 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"Some  Village  Hampden.^* 

What  sad  changes  a  few  years  bring  about  in  a  village  or 
community  with  whose  people  we  were,  it  may  be,  but  a  few 
years  ago  so  familiar.  If  you  wish  to  study  human  nature 
and  human  frailty,  and  see  tragedy  and  comedy  enacted, 
take  up  the  history  of  some  remote  village  of  a  few  years 
and  there  with  pleasure  and  pain  peruse  its  pages.  They  will 
reveal  dark  things  in  the  human  soul,  and  sad  things,  too,  of 
which  the  world  did  not  dream,  as  well  as  some  sublimity  in 
mere  mortals,  touches  of  the  divine  displayed  now  and  then — 
that's  far  above  nature's  ways,  and  suggests  kinship  with  the 
angels. 

Not  long  since  I  made  inquiries  of  a  friend  concerning  a 
pretty  village,  and  the  people  that  I  knew  well  not  a  dozen 

97 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

years  ago.  Not  a  few  had  moved  away,  and  cast  their  lot  in 
other  communities.  Old  John  Brown  is  sleeping  in  the^  cold 
earth  of  the  graveyard.  He  thought  more  of  acres  than  arti- 
cles of  religion,  more  of  cash  than  creed,  and  I  fear  at  that 
day  it  will  be  hard  for  John  Brown  to  stand.  Tom  Borden,  a 
good  hospitable  man,  I  always  thought,  was  shot  down  one 
night  in  his  own  piazza  by  a  murderer  concealed  in  the  yard, 
who  had  called  him  from  his  fireside  to  take  his  life.  The  foul 
deed  caused  a  sensation  for  awhile,  but  the  murderer  was  never 
caught  nor  likely  will  be  until  somewhere  and  somehow  his  own 
sins  will  find  him  out.  This  Tom  Borden  had  a  little  boy — I 
knew  him  well — who  was  perfectly  devoted  to  his  father. 
When  "papa"  would  go  off  on  a  trip  he'd  long  for  his  return 
and  was  always  the  first  of  the  children  "to  climb  his  knees 
the  envied  kiss  to  share."  Shortly  after  his  "papa"  was  so 
cruelly  shot  in  his  own  home,  the  little  boy  grew  weak  and 
weary,  and  soon  pined  away  and  died. 


Young  Miss  Kitty  Funking  married  early,  and  romantic- 
ally. People  may  set  orthodox  ages  for  girls  to  marry,  say 
twenty-one  to  twenty-four,  but  when  the  "gal"  takes  a  notion 
at  sixteen  to  elope,  it  is  hard  to  head  her  off.  Well,  Kitty 
loved  Ralph  Snow,  and  Ralph  idolized  Kitty.  The  old  folks 
objected  to  the  marriage,  especially  Major  Funking,  an  aged 
man  both  bold  and  brave,  who  did  not  want  Kitty,  his  pet  and 
youngest  daughter,  to  marry  anybody.  But  one  day  the 
major  was  caught  napping,  the  bars  were  down  and  Kitty 
made  a  dash  for  liberty,  and  Ralph,  watching  the  open  gap, 
made  a  dash  for  Kitty,  and  they  both  went  off  dashing  to- 
gether, and  were  at  a  neighbor's  house  most  happily  married. 
Major  Funking,  when  the  situation  was  revealed  to  him,  the 
flight  and  the  plight,  he  roared  like  most  angry  fathers  do 
when  the  pet  and  youngest  daughter  elopes  and  marries.  He 
was  going  to  batter  down,  knock  down  and  drag  out,  and  slay 

98 


"Some  Village  Hampden." 

the  posse  cometatum  of  'em  who  had  aided  and  abetted  in  this 
conspiracy — but — as  they  always  do — all  angry  fathers  who 
roar  when  the  girl  runs  away,  he  subsided  after  awhile.  *  *  * 
And  now  about  three  years  have  passed  and  there  sits  on  the 
major's  knee  a  sweet  little  miss  just  like  Kitty  was,  and  her 
name  is  lone,  and  the  major  thinks  she  is  the  sweetest,  smart- 
est little  cherub  beneath  the  skies,  and  Ralph  and  Kitty  are 
both  great  folks  now  in  the  major's  eyes,  because  of  lone. 


Mrs.  Liza  Sneed  was  a  quiet,  timid  woman,  but  she  was  de- 
voted to  home  and  husband.  Sam  Sneed  was  a  good  sort  of 
a  fellow  in  his  way  as  long  as  things  went  right  to  his  notion, 
but  otherwise  he  was  cross,  cold,  snappish  and  snarlly.  Meet- 
ing with  reverses  in  the  world  of  business  he  became  moody 
and  unhappy,  and  ere  long  he  began  blaming  his  wife  with 
his  misfortune,  accusing  her  of  this  and  that,  most  false 
charges  every  time.  Ofttimes  she  would  go  to  a  bosom  friend 
and  tell  her,  amidst  spells  of  choking  sobs,  how  she  had 
labored  to  please  Sam,  how  she  loved  him  and  how  harshly 
she  was  treated.  It  was  not  long  before  she  had  a  peculiar 
spell  of  sickness,  and  the  poor  sad  heart  ceased  to  beat  for- 
ever. It  might  be  well  to  write  on  her  tombstone :  "She  died 
of  a  broken  heart."  I  suspect  now  Sam  thinks  oft  and 
affectionately  of  her  who  so  fondly  loved  him,  and  perhaps 
scatters  sweet  flowers  over  her  grave,  but  such  love  tokens 
cannot  provoke  now  the  silent  dust  or  "soothe  the  dull  cold 
ear  of  death." 

*   *   * 

Capt.  Jim  Belcher — a  man  of  much  mind  and  matter,  who 
generally  had  about  twelve  plans  but  who  prosecuted  poorly, 
and  succeeded  in  none,  save  one — married  about  twevle  years, 
he  had  about  twelve  children.  He  moved  to  Florida  to  seek 
a  fortune,  and  is  about  to  move  again,  with  all  of  the  children 
and  with  all  the  plans.     Yet  with  all,  a  hearty,  good  fellow, 

99 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

clever  and  companionable.  I  do  hope  this  Belcher  will  land 
in  heaven  after  awhile,  where  there  will  be  no  plans  miscarried 
and  no  cradles  to  rock. 

"Peter  &  Flinn,"  "General  Merchants,  Dealers  in  Hats  and 
Honey,  Bran  and  Bacon  and  Good  Groceries,"  etc. — busted — 
long  ago,  running  too  many  Church  members  on  a  credit. 
Maybe  they  broke  with  a  little  cash  and  will  run  the  business 
in  their  wives'  names,  Mrs.  Peter  and  Mrs.  Flinn,  as  it  is 
common  to  do. 

Bill  Snake,  just  the  same,  winds  up  drunk  on  express  jug 
liquor  Saturday  night,  and  it  is  said  his  boy,  young  Bill, 
gaunt  and  gawky,  is  following  the  footsteps  of  his  father — 
what  other  tracks  has  he  to  follow,  that  young  lad  Bill.''  It 
would  be  unnatural  for  the  boy  to  do  otherwise  than  get  tight 
and  cuss  like  his  father. 

*  *  * 

After  a  mature  age  men  seldom  are  converted.  Sometimes 
there  is  outward  manifestation  of  a  change  of  character,  but 
it  proves  to  be  only  a  sort  of  reformation,  and  the  nature 
remains  the  same,  untouched  by  the  hand  divine.  A  proba- 
tioner who  neglects  his  religious  faculty  when  in  a  state  of 
development  will  likely  never  be  thoroughly  Christianized,  and 
if  at  thirty  he  is  a  devil  at  times,  just  label  him:  he  is  a  goner, 
and  will  die  a  sinner — "to  him  that  hath  shall  be  given  ;  to  him 
that  hath  not  shall  be  taken  away,  even  that  which  he  hath." 

*  *   * 

Well,  I'll  write  about  and  comment  no  more  now  on  this 
village  I  knew  years  ago,  which  I  might  call  "Sunny  Ridge." 
As  it  was  in  the  beginning  of  the  village's  growth,  so  it  is 
now ;  it  is  mixed  with  good  and  evil ;  devil,  dust,  disease  and 
death.  The  church  bells  are  kept  ringing;  sometimes  it's  a 
marriage,  sometimes  it's  a  funeral.     I  trust  old  John  Shark, 

100 


The  Farmer  Member. 

who  used  to  tell  me  he  couldn't  go  to  church  and  hear  a  ser- 
mon because  of  his  heart  (he  had  a  slight  affection  of  the 
heart  and  feared  the  "exzitement"  of  a  service  would  kill  him). 
I  say  I  trust  he  will  yet  live  to  see  Sunny  Ridge  full  of  the 
happiest  and  most  God-serving  people,  and  that  when  he  gets 
ready  to  go  he  will  set  his  house  in  order,  go  over  to  the  church 
some  bright  Sabbath  morning,  hear  a  good  sermon  and  hap- 
pily die. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

The  Farmer  Member. 

I  am  so  sorry  for  our  Bishops,  station  preachers,  organic 
brethren  and  others,  who  are  confined  to  dull  routine  work  in 
the  towns,  cities  and  conferences,  and  who  cannot  hold  regu- 
larly with  charming  nature  sweet  communion,  like  the  average 
itinerant,  and  who  have  not  the  opportunity  the  circuit  rider 
has  of  gathering  inspiration  and  thoughts  unfettered  from 
green  fields,  babbling  brooks  and  songs  of  the  forest  birds. 
At  this  season  of  the  year  the  country  preacher  often  spends 
what  is  commonly  teiTned  "blue  Monday"  in  the  saddle  or  in 
the  buggy,  going  the  rounds,  visiting  from  house  to  house, 
cheering  and  comforting  here  and  there,  and  receiving  cheer 
and  comfort  from  kind  sympathetic  people  in  turn,  whose  wel- 
coming doors  open  into  homes,  humble  they  may  be,  but  homes 
most  hospitable,  and  whose  hearts  are  so  loyal  and  true. 

If  you  spend  the  night  with  your  farmer  member  he  will 
have  early  supper  of  good  substantial  fare,  will  suggest 
prayer  soon  afterward,  and  gapes  and  yawns  will  indicate 
time  to  retire  very  soon  after  evening  devotions,  and  before 
you  hardly  realize  it  you  are  in  a  soft  bed  trying  to  slip  off 
into  a  slumber.  You  are  not  there  long,  at  least  so  it  seems, 
before  you  become  conscious  that  there  is  some  mortal  "stir- 
ring."    You  listen.     In  an  adjoining  room  a  chair  will  move 

101 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

on  the  floor.  It's  that  farmer  securing  his  breeches  which  he 
hung  on  the  back  of  the  chair  on  retiring ;  he's  putting  on  his 
armor;  he  has  actually  risen,  and  is  going  forth.  You  won- 
der what  o'clock  it  is,  and  you  creep  softly  to  the  bureau 
where  the  watch  lies  a  ticking,  feeling  somewhat  like  a  thief  in 
the  night,  strike  a  match  gently  and — lo,  it's  3  :30  A.  M.,  as 
sure  as  3'^ou  are  alive.  But  maybe  an  hour  or  two  will  yet 
pass  before  there  will  be  a  final  awakening.  And  you  seek 
again  the  soft  yielding  bed  and  surrender  to  delicious  drowsi- 
ness of  the  dawning  hour  of  a  June  morning.  Directly  fresh 
alarming  sounds  are  borne  on  the  3 :30  A.  M.  air.  They 
come  from  the  kitchen.  She  is  up  and  doing,  "still  achieving 
and  still  pursuing."  You  hear  the  rattle  of  cooking  utensils, 
the  scraping  of  pots,  the  falling  of  the  tea  kettle  handles,  and 
you  conclude  that  the  good  housewife  is  preparing  breakfast. 
You  turn  over  in  bed  and  sigh  for  sleep,  but  now  you  hear  the 
coffee  mill  grinding;  and  arise,  O  sleeper,  your  time  is  up — 
breakfast  will  be  ready  directly.  It  is  now  4:30  A.  M.,  and 
the  farmer  member  is  waiting,  walking  about  you  in  the  hall 
and  on  the  porch,  listening  to  hear  a  sound  of  stir  in  the 
prophet's  chamber.  After  a  while  the  farmer  member  ven- 
tures to  the  door,  and  knocks,  knocks  again.  You  realize  the 
inevitable,  but  don't  stir,  say  nothing,  let  him  come  in,  let  there 
be  a  "breaking  and  entering,"  a  regular  burglary  entrance 
at  this  unseasonable  hour;  make  out  you  are  asleep,  snore 
hard,  move  neither  hand  nor  foot,  but  snore  and  listen  at  him 
calling  you,  now  standing  in  the  half -open  door,  looking  down 
upon  you  with  a  4 :30  A.  M.  gruesome  grin :  "Brother 
Wilkes !  O  Brother  Wilkes !  say,  preacher,  preacher  !"  You 
move,  you  yawn,  and  stare  in  a  blinkity-blankity  way.  "I 
say,  preacher,  air  you  'sleep.?" 

God  bless  the  farmer  member,  whose  underlying  principle 
is  fidelity  to  Church  and  State.  He  is  the  heroic  plowman 
bearing  the  drudgery  of  dust  and  dirt,  but  he  is  clothing  the 
king  in  his  palace,  and  he  is  feeding  a  hungry  world.     Let 

102 


Recollections  of  Early  Childhood. 

not  grandeur  disdain  whose  waiving  plume  comes  from  this 
man's  labor  obscure,  nor  let  proud  ambition  mock  the  humble 
toil  that  makes  the  world's  traffic  and  trade  sing  with  joy.  In 
his  Christian  heart  and  patriotic  home  lies  the  greatness  of 
our  nation,  and  upon  his  brawny  shoulders  there  rests  the 
hope  and  fortune  of  our  holy  Zion. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Recollections  of  Early  Childhood. 

Who  can  forget  the  associations  of  early  boyhood,  or  bury 
the  scenes  and  characters  of  those  first  years,  when  life  was 
one  sweet  dream,  whose  pathway  was  all  covered  with  flowers? 
After  the  lapse  of  many  hard  years  a^ou  look  back  and  easily 
bring  to  mind  the  memory  of  other  days,  until,  for  a  moment 
at  least,  you  all  but  live  them  over  again.  The  sweet  voices 
of  loved  ones  long  since  silenced  speak  to  you,  and  laughing 
bright  eyes  peer  at  you  once  more.  You  almost  feel  the 
touch  of  the  hand,  now  no  more,  and  realize  the  enlivening 
influence  of  the  presence,  gone  forever.  My  good  old  grand- 
father, Robert  Hawthorne,  lived  just  four  miles  west  of 
Winnsboro,  where  I  spent  many  happy  days.  I  was  there 
with  my  widowed  mother  when  Sherman's  army  marched 
through.  She  saved  the  house  and  buildings  from  a  Shenuan 
conflagration  by  promptly  giving,  when  fire  was  threatened 
and  actually  started,  the  Masonic  sign  of  distress.  I  remem- 
ber old  Mrs.  Armstrong  just  across  the  branch  and  her  clean 
kitchen,  and  the  best  pan-cakes  and  chicken  pie  a  young 
mortal  ever  ate.  Charlie  Cope  (now  of  Orangeburg)  lived 
near.  He  was,  too,  the  only  son  and  child.  One  day  in  June, 
each  aged  six,  we  were  running  up  and  down  the  long  piazza 
of  the  Hawthorne  home  just  after  a  shower  of  rain  and  hail, 
and  somehow  there  was  a  collision,  a  head  to  head  collision, 

103 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

and  the  two  little  fellows  got  scars  that  will  go  with  them  to 
the  grave.  One  day,  after  my  wounds  were  healed,  I  rode 
Grandpa's  old  horse,  "Black,"  all  the  way  to  Winnsboro  and 
back  by  my  lone  self — what  an  achievement!  I  do  hope  if 
there  be  a  heaven  for  horses  old  Black  Avill  land  there. 
Grandpa  would  hold  family  prayers,  beginning  with  "Our 
Heavenly  Father."  Uncle  Ned  Gibson,  a  bachelor  great- 
uncle,  who  boarded  with  us,  would  swear  around,  about  as 
fervently  as  grandpa  prayed,  and  when  he'd  go  to  Winnsboro 
he  would  bring  me  great  red  sticks  of  candy.  My  first  fox 
hunt  was  behind  this  great  uncle  on  his  horse,  having  a  pillow 
for  a  saddle  (in  the  wild  runs  I  needed  one)  and  along  with  us 
were  Major  Woodward  and  his  fine  pack  of  hounds.  There 
would  come  often  to  Squire  Hawthorne's  a  pretty  young  lady 
from  Winnsboro  to  visit  one  of  my  young  aunts.  They  were 
intimate  and  affectionate  friends.  They  would  climb  the  big 
rocks,  gather  wild  flowers,  sing,  chatter  and  talk  of  their 
lovers  the  live-long  day.  The  pretty  young  lady  would  call 
me  her  "sweetheart,"  and  gave  such  tender  attention  that  my 
child's  heart  was  completely  won.  I  remember  well  her  dreamy 
brown  eyes,  blushing  cheeks  and  all  the  tints,  touches  and  deli- 
cate elements  that  go  to  make  the  rare  and  radiant  maiden. 
I  was  rejoiced  when  she  came  to  the  "Squire's,"  bringing  joy 
and  life  with  her,  and  possibly  the  first  sadness  that  ever  I  felt 
was  when  she  went  away  and  told  her  "little  sweetheart" 
good-bye. 


The  other  day  at  Winnsboro  in  the  churchyard  I  stood  at 
her  grave — the  cruel  place  that  engulfs  all  the  beauty  and  the 
brave  of  this  dying  world — and  I  had  the  same  child  sweet- 
heart feeling  again.  The  inscription  on  the  marble  tomb  tells 
the  story.  She  married;  there  was  gladness  awhile  in  her 
new  home,  and  prospects  most  pleasing,  but,  alas,  soon  the 
shadows  came — sorrows — death. 


104. 


Earthquake  Incident. 

"She  gave  to  misery,  'twas  all  she  had — a  tear ;  she  gained 
from  heaven,  'twas  all  she  wished — a  Friend." 

May  sweetest  flowers  ever  bloom  over  the  grave  of  my  child- 
hood's fairest  friend;  and  many  the  sunshine  love  to  linger 
'round  thy  resting  place — Annie  Belle. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Earthquake  Incident. 

[The  facts  in  the  following  were  told  me  by  a  gentleman 
who  knew  well  the  conspicuous  figure  who  acted  his  part  so 
nervously  on  that  earthquake  night,  and  vouches  for  its 
tinith.] 

Dramatis  Persons:  Josiah  Bushrod,  Sally  Bushrod,  his 
wife,  and  Jacob  Bushrod,  his  son.     Scene:  Country  home  in 

County,  S.  C.     Time:  August  31st,  1886,  6  to 

11  P.  M. 

I. 

Josiah  (just  arrived  from  town  late  in  evening)  :  "Say, 
Jakie,  Jakie!     Where  are  you?" 

Jakie:  "I'm  a-coming  as  fast  as  I  can." 

Josiah :  "Take  the  horse,  Jakie,  take  the  horse.  Did  John 
Simpson  send  back  my  hay  rake  he  borrowed.''" 

Jakie:  "Yes,  sir,  and  he  said  that  he  was  much  obliged  to 
you." 

Josiah :  "Oh,  yes.  That's  all  I  get,  'Much  obliged.'  Never 
saw  such  borrowers  in  my  life  as  we've  got  here  on  Chestnut 
Ridge.  They  will  borrow  your  axe,  your  cross-cut  saw,  your 
Dixie  plow,  hayrakes — anything  and  everything — and  it's 
always  'much  obliged.'  " 

Jakie:  'Oh,  pa.?     You  know  Pewter  Smith.'"' 

Josiah:  "Yes,   I   know   Pewter — and  for  the   last   twenty 

105 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

years  I've  known  him.  He  is  got  the  right  name — he's 
pewter." 

Jakie:  "Well,  he's  just  been  here  and  asked  ma  if  you'd 
care  to  lend  him  Claybank  and  the  old  surrey  tomorrow  to  go 
to  Shiloh  to  the  big  meeting.  He  wants  ter  take  all  the  chil- 
dren, and  his  mother-in-law  is  on  a  visit  to  him." 

Josiah :  "Good  gracious !  There  it  is  again.  Pewter 
wants  to  borrow  a  horse,  and  borrow  a  surrey,  and  borrow  the 
harness — all  to  go  to  a  meeting  to  hear  maybe  a  borrowed 
sermon.  My !  My !  My !  How  this  world  is  given  to 
borrowing.      Say,  Jakie,  what  did  your  ma  say.'"' 

Jakie:  "Well,  ma  said  that  she  was  rejoicing  in  the  way 
the  meeting  was  going  on,  and  was  mighty  pleased  to  see  him 
so  interested,  and  that  she  was  sure  you  would  be  glad  to  lend 
Claybank  and  the  surrey  to  carry  his  folks  to  the  revival 
meeting." 

Josiah:  "Well,  now,  I  ain't.  Do  you  hear  it — I  just  ain't. 
Say,  Jakie,  did  you  have  that  young  fodder  pulled  on  Spring 
branch  .f"' 

Jakie:  "Yes,  sir,  and  took  it  in  'fore  sundown." 

Josiah:  "Did  you  let  'Crooked  Leg  Bill'  and  'Liza's  Jim' 
have  their  rations  at  12  o'clock  as  I  told  you.^"' 

Jakie:  "No,  sir,  but  I  let  them  have  'em  this  evening  'fore 
you  came — one  peck  of  meal  and  three  pounds  of  meat  each. 
We  didn't  get  home  until  after  12  o'clock." 

Josiah:  "Oh,  yes.  I  suppose  you  and  your  ma  had  to  go 
to  that  great  meeting.     When  will  it  break.''" 

Jakie:  "It  was  to  close  today,  but  there  was  such  a  warm 
meeting  today,  and  so  many  joined  the  church,  and  so  many 
mourners,  that  the  preacher  said  he  would  go  on  a  few  days 
longer." 

Josiah :  "And  I  reckoned  old  Pewter  Smith  shouted.  Take 
Rainbow  and  put  him  up  and  feed  him  in  the  stall  next  to 
Claybank,  and  feed  Claybank  well,  for  he  will  have  to  go  to 

106 


Earthquake  Incident. 

Shiloh  tomorrow,  according  to  your  ma's  directions,  and  carry 
all  the  'Pewter'  Smiths." 
(Exit  Jakie.) 

II. 

Josiah  (meeting  Mrs.  Bushrod  in  front  porch,  who  affect- 
ionately greets  him)  :  "I'll  declare,  Sally,  this  has  been  a  siz- 
zing  hot  day,  sure,  and  it's  been  a  galloping  day  with  me,  too 
— and  I'm  tired." 

Mrs.  B. :  "Oh,  well,  sit  in  your  rocker  and  rest.  In  a  few 
moments  we  will  have  supper,  and  there  in  the  hall  is  some 
cool  water  just  from  the  spring.     Josiah?" 

Josiah:  "What  do  yer  want,  Sally.?" 

Mrs.  B. :  "Tell  me  the  truth,  haven't  you  been  drinking 
some  of  that  horrid  stuff  in  town  today.'"' 

Josiah :  "Sally,  see  here,  you  know  I  am  a  man  of  liberty. 
I  want  to  eat  as  I  please,  sleep  as  I  please,  go  where  I  please, 
and  drink  as  I  please.  I  am  like  Henry  Patrick  of  old,  I'd 
say,  'Give  me  liberty,  or  something  worse,'  every  time.  That's 
my  ticket.  Yes,  I  did  take  a  drink  or  two,  but  I  was  feeling 
poorly,  and  I  drank  for  my  'stomach's  sake  and  often  infirmi- 
ties ;'  and  I  say  this,  too — let  all  husbands  'tend  to  their  busi- 
ness and  let  all  good  wives  'tend  to  their  business.  Ain't  that 
according  to  Scripture?  But,  say,  Sally,  we  had  a  high  old 
time  in  town  today.  A  whole  lot  of  us  friends  gathered  at  the 
eating  house,  and  Jim  Brown  nominated  me  the  ugliest  man 

in County ;  and  Mose  Hill  put  up  Joe  Busby — 'Old 

Whiskers,'  as  the  boys  call  him — and  there  were  seven  votes 
cast  and  I  got  the  majority!  (Laughing.)  Oh,  we  had  a 
rollicking  good  time!" 

Mrs.  B. :  "Ah,  Josiah,  you  ought  not  to  behave  and  talk 
this  way.  You  are  a  member  of  the  Church,  Josiah,  and  you 
use  to  attend  every  preaching  day — but  you  have  gone  back. 
I  wish  you  had  avoided  your  friends  today  and  had  gone  with 
me  to  Shiloh.     Bro.  Spookendyke  took  for  his  text:  'Watch, 

107 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

for  ye  know  neither  the  day,  nor  the  hour.'  And  when  I 
thought  how  indifferent  you  were  to  your  soul's  salvation,  and 
your  example  before  our  oldest  boy,  I  felt  most  distressed. 
Several  promised,  at  his  urgent  request,  the  pastor's,  that 
each  would  pray  for  some  dear  unconverted  friend.  I  prom- 
ised to  pray  for  a  friend — and  that  friend  is  yourself, 
Josiah !  Several,  too,  have  vowed  to  take  up  family  prayer — 
and  it  makes  my  heart  glad  when  I  think  of  the  many  pray- 
ing homes  now  in  Chestnut  Ridge  community.  Let  me  see 
if  I  can  name  those  who  made  the  promise  today.  There  is 
Peter  Dickson  and  Jerry  Simson — " 

Josiah  (interrupting)  :  "Yes,  the  same  that's  always  bor- 
rowing my  hayrake,  cross-cut  saw — " 

Mrs.  B. :  "Well,  no  matter,  I  believe  he  is  a  changed  man 
now.  And  there  are  John  Halback,  Zeke  Nardin,  Tom 
Smoke  and  'Pewter'  Smith — " 

Josiah :  "I'll  be  bound,  if  old  Pewter  will  be  outdone — " 

Mrs.  B. :  "Would  to  the  good  Lord  that  my  dear  husband 
would  resolve  not  to  be  outdone,  for  I  fear  if  he  continues  to 
resist  the  Spirit  he  will  be  undone.  Josiah,  if  I  could  see 
you  with  your  Bible  in  your  hand  and  hear  you  read  the  Holy 
Word,  and  get  down  on  your  knees  and  have  family  prayer,  I 
would  be  one  happy  soul.  And  I  pray  and  hope  that  I 
may  yet  see — " 

Josiah:  "Now,  Sally.  Come,  and  see  here,  Sally;  you're 
a  right  good  preacher,  but  there  are  three  things  I  wish  to 
draw  your  religious  attention  to  right  now:  firstly,  I  am 
tired ;  secondly,  I  want  my  supper,  and,  thirdly,  I  want  to  go 
to  bed.     Do  you  hear  now,  Sally.?" 

(Exit.) 

HI. 

Mrs.  Sally  Bushrod  (alone  in  sitting  room  by  lamp  on 
table,  with  her  Bible)  :  "I  reckon  poor  Josiah  is  fast  asleep 
now,  after  his  rollicking  day  in  town.     This  is  no  new  thing, 

108 


Earthquake  Incident. 

however,  for,  alas !  dissipation  is  gaining  on  Josiah.  Just 
think  of  it !  While  we  were  worshiping  at  Shiloh  my  dear 
husband  was  carousing  with  his  fellows  in  a  restaurant — and 
actually  voting  for  the  ugliest  man  in  the  county!  Josiah 
is  far  from  being  a  bad  man  at  heart,  though  he  quarrels 
about  borrowers  and  borrowing,  to  a  neighbor  needing  help, 
or  even  to  a  stranger  in  dire  want  of  bread  I  don't  remember 
him  ever  saying  'No.'  Oh,  I  do  pray  he  may  be  converted 
and  turn  from  all  his  evil  ways  and  associates."  (Reads 
Bible.) 

All  at  once  a  deep  rumbling  sound  is  heard — a  peculiar 
ominous  sound  that  cannot  be  well  described — somewhat  like 
distant  thunder.  It  becomes  louder  and  more  distinct. 
Directly  the  house  begins  to  quiver  fearfully,  and  chairs  and 
tables  are  rocking  to  and  fro  or  falling.  Bricks  from  the 
chimney  tops  are  shaken  down,  landing  on  shed-rooms  around. 
Dogs  begin  to  howl  piteously  and  to  bark.  Cattle  are  low- 
ing, horses  are  neighing.  Cries  of  "Mercy !  Mercy !  O 
Lord !"  could  be  heard  far  and  near.  Mrs.  B.  was  satisfied 
at  first  the  great  judgment  day  had  come,  and  for  a  moment 
was  so  startled  that  she  made  no  movement  except  to  rise  and 
stand  near  the  centre  table,  holding  the  hitherto  rocking 
lamp.  It  wasn't  long  before  she  thought  of  Josiah.  She 
hastily  runs  to  his  room,  finds  him  undressed  and  in  a  state 
of  terror,  sitting  on  the  bed. 

Josiah:  "Oh,  Sally,  what  in  the  world — what  on  the 
earth!" 

Mrs.  B. :  "Oh,  Josiah,  the  judgment  day  has  come,  and 
what  a  fix  you  are  in !" 

(Another  rumbling  sound — a  shock  and  a  shaking.) 

Josiah :  "Oh !  Oh  !  Oh !  Oh,  Sally !  I  want  you  to  for- 
give me.  I  haven't  been  the  husband  to  you  I  ought  to  have 
been.  Oh!  Oh!  I  ought  to  have  gone  to  church — oh,  for- 
give me,  Sally !" 

109 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Mrs.  B. :  "Hush,  Josiah,  don't  call  on  me  to  forgive  you ! 
Call  on  the  Lord !  Call  on  the  Lord  right  away !  Lose  not  a 
moment.  Come  right  on  in  the  sitting  room,  read  a  word  in 
the  Good  Book,  and  let  us  pray.  Get  down  on  your  knees 
and  cry  out  for  mercy  and  salvation !     Come !" 

Josiah:  "Will  do  anything  you  say,  Sally.  Yes,  I  will 
read,  I  will  pray.     Oh,  mercy!" 

Josiah  follows  wife  to  the  big  room.  (Another  shock.) 
Tremblingly  reaches  the  table  and  instead  of  the  Bible,  he 
seizes  a  framed  hand  looking  glass,  takes  it  up  a  moment  and 
then  dashes  it  down. 

"Sally!  Oh,  Sally!  It's  too  late  to  pray!  It's  too  late, 
the  devil  is  done  here,  for  I've  seen  him!" 

(Rushes  out — wife  following.) 

The  prayer  of  Mrs.  Bushrod  and  the  earthquake  triumphed. 
Josiah  Bushrod,  I  am  told,  afterwards  became  a  sadder,  wiser 
and  a  religious  man. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Sundry  Subjects. 

SENSE    OF    APPEECIATION. 

Newly  Married  Man :  "What  do  ye  charge .'"' 
Pastor:  "Oh,  nothing,  sir.     We  make  no  charges." 
Married  Man:  "Do  yuners  love  'taters.?" 
Pastor:  "Oh,  yes,  sir." 

Married  man :  "Wall,  I'll  send  you  some.     Good-bye." 
Now,  he  had  a  sense  of  appreciation,  but  it  ran  along  the 
line  of  "  'taters." 

SEVEN   GOOD   REASONS. 

During  a  temperance  campaign  a  lawyer  was  discussing, 
with  no  little  show  of  learning,  the  clauses  of  a  proposed  tem- 

110 


Sundry  Subjects. 

perance  law.  An  old  farmer,  who  had  been  listening  atten- 
tively, shut  his  knife  with  a  snap  and  said: 

"I  don't  know  nuthin'  about  the  law,  but  I've  got  seven 
good  reasons  for  votin'  for  it." 

"What  are  they?"  asked  the  lawyer. 

And  the  grim  old  farmer  responded :  "Four  sons  and  three 
daughters." — Sel. 

A  minister's  good-bye. 

A  report  reached  the  Clinton  office  the  first  part  of  the 
week  that  a  minister  of  one  of  our  near-by  villages  took  per- 
manent leave  of  one  of  his  congregations  a  few  Sabbaths 
since  in  the  following  pathetic  words : 

"Brothers  and  Sisters:  I  come  to  say  good-bye.  I  don't 
think  God  loves  this  church,  because  none  of  you  ever  did.  I 
don't  think  you  love  each  other,  because  I  never  marry  any  of 
you.  I  don't  think  you  love  me,  because  you  haven't  paid  me 
my  salary.  Your  donations  are  moldly  fruit  and  wormy 
apples,  'and  by  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them.' 

"Brothers,  I  am  going  to  a  better  place.  I  have  been 
called  to  be  chaplain  of  a  penitentiary.  Where  I  go  you 
cannot  come  now,  but  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you,  and 
may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on  your  souls.     Good-bye." 

*  *  * 

"something  must  be  saceificed." 

A  peculiar  phenomenon  occurred  one  day  a  few  years  ago 
within  the  corporate  limits  of  the  little  town  of  Woodford, 
S.  C.  It  was  an  unusual  display  of  highly  wrought  feeling 
which  deviated  from  the  common  course  that  passion  and 
resentment  usually  suggest. 

The  scene  was  a  blacksmith  shop  and  the  actors  in  the 
tragedy  were  the  proprietor  of  the  shop  and  a  farmer.  The 
smith  had  repaired  the  farmer's  vehicle,  the  latter  had  come 

111 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

to  settle  the  account  with  the  worker  in  iron.  But  there  was 
a  difference  in  opinion  in  regard  to  the  stipulation  made  in 
the  beginning.  There  was  in  the  shop  about  the  vehicle  an 
animated  discussion,  and  it  seemed  for  a  while  there  would 
be  a  lamentable  concussion.  Finally  some  expression  from 
the  farmer  blew  the  man  of  the  bellows  into  a  blaze  of  indig- 
nation. He  made  a  few  violent  motions,  and  murderously 
seized  his  new  hat  and  threw  it  into  a  heated  stove.  "There, 
now,"  said  he,  "bum  ;  when  it  comes  to  this,  something  has  got 
to  be  sacrificed!"  The  nervous  action  of  the  smith  and  the 
burning  hat  brought  on  a  reaction  in  the  head  of  the  farmer. 
Pacific  sentiments  after  the  storm  prevailed.  The  debt  was 
paid  and  the  farmer  rolled  away  in  his  carriage,  leaving  the 
hatless  blacksmith  satisfied  that  he  had  not  made  the  sacrifice 
in  vain. 


DEATH  OF  BILLY  MAHONE. 

Act  1.  The  funeral.  Large  gathering  of  friends  and 
relatives  of  the  deceased,  Billy  Mahone,  and  the  widow.  Much 
weeping — but  the  widow  wept  most.  Yards  of  "mourning" 
— but  the  widow  "out-mourned"  them  all — the  heavy  black 
veil  falling  to  the  ground.  And  the  two  little  boys,  aged  four 
and  two,  sons  of  the  deceased,  opened  their  big  eyes  on  a 
strange  scene. 

Act  2. — The  monument.  A  pretty  one,  and  skillfully 
chiseled.  Bore  ma,ny  fine  words  of  grief  and  Scripture,  with 
the  carved  representation  of  two  hands  clasped.  "Erected  to 
the  Memory  of  William  Mahone  by  his  disconsolate  Widow." 
The  grave  kept  green  and  decorated  with  flowers.  "Meet  me, 
dear  Billy,  at  heaven's  gate,"  she'd  moan. 

Act  3. — The  insurance  agent  calls  with  check  of  $4,000. 
The  "disconsolate  widow"  comforted.  Goes  to  the  dentist's 
office  six  months  after  date  and  secures  five  new  teeth.  The 
disconsolate  widow  buys  a  brand  new  turnout,  and  drops  the 

112 


Sundry  Subjects. 

long  mourning  veil — looking  very  rosy  in  a  background  of 
black. 

Act  4. — One  day  Jake  Phillips  calls  just  to  see  the  children. 
Brings  them  candy  and  nice  things.  The  cliildren  think  all 
the  world  of  "dear  Uncle  Jake."  The  widow  now  in  "second 
mourning."  Great  deal  of  white — no  black  and  bunglesome 
headgear.  Often  seen  in  new  turnout,  and  new  teeth,  at 
church.  And  Jake  Phillips,  too,  with  his  new  breeches.  Both 
look  pious  during  solemn  service. 

Act  5. — Married — as  sure  as  you  live!  In  the  village 
church — amidst  evergreens  and  music.  Mrs.  Mahone  and 
Jake  Phillips  united  in  holy  matrimony.  Bridal  presents 
— and  congratulations.  A  trip  to  the  sea  and  "At  Home." 
*  *  *  Poor  Billy  Mahone!  His  demise  yielded  a  new  turn- 
out, new  teeth,  new  silks — and  Jake  Phillips.  I  wonder  who 
will  meet  him  now  at  heaven's  gate — and  the  flowers,  too,  on 
the  grave  have  all  faded,  and  faded  forever! 


JACKSON   IN    THE   PRAYER   MEETING. 

Stonewall  Jackson,  the  Christian  hero  of  the  great  civil 
war,  always  moved  onward  under  clearest  conviction  of  duty, 
though  in  the  face  of  failure  itself.  That  determined  spirit 
to  do  or  die  manifested  itself  wherever  duty  called,  whether 
charging  the  solid  phalanx  of  the  enemy  or  leading  a  prayer 
meeting  in  his  village  church  at  Lexington,  Va.  A  few 
years  ago  I  boarded  with  a  gentleman  in  Lexington  who  knew 
the  general  well  and  worshiped  with  him  regularly  in  the  same 
church  (Presbyterian). 

Shortly  after  General  Jackson  joined  the  church  he  felt  it 
his  duty  to  lead  in  public  prayer,  and  so  expressed  hismelf  to 
his  venerable  pastor.  Dr.  White.  He  requested  the  general 
to  conduct  the  prayer  service  the  next  Thursday  evening.  It 
was  a  failure  all  through,  the  gentleman  said.  In  his  prayer 
he  was  confusing,  in  his  talk  he  was  confounding,  to  the  great 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

distress  and  embarrassment  of  the  leader's  friends.  To  the 
great  surprise  of  the  pastor  and  others,  he  requested  to  be 
called  on  in  public  service  again.  He  blundered  on,  but  per- 
severed until  he  became  mighty  in  prayer  and  exhortation,  and 
was  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  the  superintendent  of  a  very 
successful  Sunday  school. 

HUNGRY    MULE. 

A  negro  freight  hand  had  been  placed  in  charge  of  a 
mule,  the  destination  of  which  was  marked  on  a  tag  attached 
by  twine  to  the  animal's  leg.  Before  the  mule  could  be  per- 
suaded to  enter  a  car,  he  managed  to  reach  the  tag,  and  before 
the  negro  could  interpose  he  had  that  tag  well  chewed  up. 
The  old  man  looked  at  the  local  freight  agent  in  great  per- 
turbation and  said:  "What  I  goin'  to  do  wid  dat  mule.?  He 
done  eat  up  de  place  where  he's  goin'." 

*   *  * 

POPPING    THE    QUESTION. 

There  is  more  method,  perhaps,  than  modesty  in  the  recent 
proposal  to  the  world  at  large  of  a  Japanese  lady,  who  adver- 
tises :  "I  am  a  beautiful  woman,  with  cloud-like  hair,  flowery 
face,  willow-like  waist  and  crescent  eye-brows.  I  have  enough 
property  to  walk  through  life  hand  in  hand,  gazing  at  the 
flowers  in  the  day  and  the  moon  at  night.  If  there  is  a  gen- 
tleman who  is  clever,  learned,  handsome  and  of  good  taste, 
I  will  join  with  him  for  life,  and  share  the  pleasure  of  being 
buried  in  the  same  grave." 

One  of  the  most  unconventional  and  startling  proposals  on 
record  was  that  of  Lorenzo  Dow,  an  eloquent  and  popular 
Methodist  minister.  Mr.  Dow  had  mourned  his  first  wife  for 
a  year,  and  thought  it  was  high  time  to  replace  her.  One 
day  at  the  close  of  the  sermon  he  electrified  his  congregation 
by  announcing :  "I  am  a  candidate  for  matrimony,  and  if  any 

114. 


Sundry  Subjects. 

woman  in  this  congregation  would  care  to  take  me,  let  her 
rise."  After  a  modest  interval,  two  ladies  rose  from  their 
seats,  one  at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit  and  the  other  at  the  back 
of  the  church.  The  reverend  gentleman  inspected  them  for  a 
moment,  and  then  said:  "As  the  one  nearest  to  me  was  the 
first  to  rise,  I  will  make  her  my  wife;  and  now  we  will  sing 
hymn  No.  — ."  Such  an  audacious  proposal  deserved  the 
happy  union  which  followed  it,  and  Mr.  Dow  was  not  the  less 
contented  with  his  choice  because  she  was  amply  supplied  with 
this  world's  goods. 

There  have  been  fewer  quainter  proposals  than  that  of  the 
late  Bishop  of  Ossory,  who,  after  pulling  the  "wishing  bone" 
with  a  young  lady  who  had  won  his  heart,  laid  down  his  part 
of  the  broken  bone  and  whispered  to  her,  "Will  you  lay  your 
bones  with  my  bones?" — Sel. 


CLEVER   WITNESS. 

A  lawyer  in  a  court  the  other  day,  after  a  close  cross-exam- 
ination of  a  witness,  an  illiterate  Irish  woman,  in  reference  to 
the  position  of  the  doors  and  windows,  etc.,  in  her  house,  asked 
the  following  question:  "And  now,  my  good  woman,  tell  the 
court  how  the  stairs  run  in  your  house."  To  which  the  good 
woman  replied:  "How  do  the  stairs  run.?  Shure,  whin  I'm 
oop  stairs  they  run  down,  and  whin  I'm  down  stairs  they 
run  oop." 

«  «   • 

A  RELIGION   THAT  BENDS. 

An  incident  told  by  the  Rev.  V.  B.  Carroll  in  the  Hom'detic 
Review  makes  apparent  the  necessity  in  this  transition  period 
of  getting  the  negro  inwardly  right  in  order  that  his  rela- 
tionship to  society  may  be  right. 

We  were  driving  out  one  Sunday  from  Decatur,  when  we 
came  upon  a  negro  with  a  club  in  his  hand  and  a  freshly 

116 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

killed  'possum  on  his  shoulder.  We  stopped  to  examine  his 
prize,  and  the  colonel  said: 

"My  friend,  do  you  know  it  is  Sunday?" 

"Sartin,  boss." 

"Are  you  not  a  religious  man?" 

"I  are.     I'ze  jist  on  my  way  home  from  church." 

"And  what  sort  of  religion  have  you  got  that  permits  you 
to  go  hunting  on  Sunday?" 

"Religion,  religion?"  queried  the  man  as  he  held  the  'pos- 
sum up  with  one  hand  and  scratched  his  head  with  the  other. 
"Does  you  'spect  any  black  man  in  Alabama  to  tie  hisself  up 
to  any  religion  dat  'lows  a  'possum  to  walk  right  across  de 
road  ahead  of  him  an'  git  away  free?  No,  sah!  A  religion 
which  won't  bend  a  little  when  a  fat  'possum  heads  you  off 
couldn't  be  'stablished  round  about  here  by  all  preachers  in 
de  universe." 


A  NOVEL  TEST. 

Dr.  Geo.  F.  Pierce  was  president  of  Emory  College,  Ox- 
ford, Ga.,  1850-54,  before  he  was  Bishop.  The  old  custom 
of  sunrise  prayer  was  then  in  vogue.  "Old  Davy,"  a  colored 
man,  was  janitor.  The  boys  were  fond  of  playing  pranks  on 
him,  and,  by  imitating  the  president,  got  him  to  ringing  the 
bell  at  any  time  but  the  right  time.  The  president  caught  on 
to  the  trick,  and  one  morning  got  to  the  chapel  quite  early, 
before  it  was  light  enough  to  see  well,  and  ahead  of  the  boys. 
He  found  old  Davy  at  his  post,  and  said  to  him,  "Good  morn- 
ing. Uncle  Davy  ;  it  is  time  to  ring  the  bell." 

"Now  you  needn't  think  you  kin  fool  me  no  mo',"  said 
Davy.  "I  ain't  a  gwine  ter  listen  ter  none  o'  you  freshmans. 
I  ring  de  bell  when  de  true  time  come." 

"But  I'm  Dr.  Pierce,"  he  replied. 
'"Well,"  said  Davy,  "dar's  jes  one  way  to  prove  it.     Dar 

IKJ 


Sundry  Subjects. 

ain'  no  man  in  de  worP  g^ot  a  head  lack  Mas'  George  Pierce ; 
you  pull  off  dat  hat  an'  lemme  see  your  head." 

"If  that  will  convince  you,"  said  the  president,  "I  will  hat- 
off  to  3'ou.     Come  here  and  look." 

Old  Davy  came  up  close  to  him,  and  he  lifted  his  hat. 
"Laws  er  massy !"  said  old  Davy ;  "dat  sho  is  Mas'  George.  I 
gwine  ter  ring  dat  bell  right  now,  kase  dar  ain't  nobody  in  de 
worl',  no  freshmans,  got  a  head  lak  dat  'cept  Mas'  George." 

And  it  was  a  unique  head.  At  first  glance,  apart  from  the 
face,  it  appeared  to  be  only  a  roundish,  full  head ;  but  as  you 
continued  to  behold  it,  it  showed  special  angles  and  length 
that  individualized  its  wondrous  symmetry. — B.  W.  Bigham 
in  Children  s  Visitor. 

*  *  * 

"l   KEPT   MY    PROMISE." 

A  young  soldier  under  General  Sheridan  said  to  him  just 
before  a  battle:  "General,  if  I  am  killed,  tell  my  mother  that 
I  kept  my  promise.  Not  a  drop  of  strong  drink  have  I 
tasted."  ,  The  battle  was  fought,  and  the  lad  lay  among  the 
slain.  Said  General  Sheridan :  "I  carried  the  message  to  his 
mother.  She  replied,  'General,  that  is  more  glory  for  my  boy 
than  if  he  had  taken  a  city.'  " 

*  *   * 

SUPERSTITIOUS. 

Detective  George  Fall,  of  the  city  hall  force,  was  riding 
uptown  in  a  Thirteenth  street  trolley  car  last  Friday  when  a 
colored  man  of  his  acquaintance  came  in  and  sat  down  in  the 
next  seat.  After  a  brief  chat,  the  detective  said:  "Are  you 
superstitious,  Sam?"  "No,  suh,"  said  Sam.  "Well,  it's  a 
good  thing  you're  not,"  said  Fall.  "There's  a  cross-eyed 
woman  sitting  opposite."  "Ya-as,  suh,  dat's  right,"  chuckled 
Sam.  "And  up  in  the  corner  there  is  a  hunchback."  "Yas, 
suh,  I  sees  him."     "See  the  number  of  the  car  up  there?    It's 

117 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

313."  "Yas,  suh."  "And  this  is  Thirteenth  street  we  are 
on,  you  know."  "You  go  'long,  suh."  "The  cash  register, 
as  you  may  observe,  shows  the  figure  1313."  "Yas,  suh." 
"And  this  is  Friday."  "Ya-as."  "Also  it  is  the  thirteenth 
of  the  month."  "Quit  yo'  foolin',  man."  "It  is  now,"  said 
the  detective,  pulling  out  his  watch,  "just  exactly  thirteen 
minutes  past — "  The  colored  man  had  risen  to  his  feet.  "I 
ain't  supahstitious,  Mistah  Fall,"  he  said,  "but  heah's  where 
I  gits  off.  You  do  make  a  man  mighty  oncomfable." — 
Philadelphia  Record. 

TOUGH    WORLD. 

Flossie  is  six  years  old.  "Mama,"  she  asked  one  day,  "if 
I  get  married,  will  I  have  a  husband  like  pa.''"  "Yes,"  replied 
the  mother,  with  an  amused  smile.  "And  if  I  don't  get  mar- 
ried, will  I  have  to  be  an  old  maid,  like  Aunt  Kate?"  "Yes, 
Flossie."  "Mamma,"  she  said,  after  a  short  pause,  "it's  a 
tough  world  for  us  women,  ain't  it?" 

«   «   « 

ESCAPED  THE  ACOUSTICS. 

Mack,  the  colored  sexton  of  our  first  church  at  Decatur, 
was  ordered  one  Sunday  morning  by  one  of  the  stewards  to 
open  the  folding  doors  between  the  auditorium  and  the  Sun- 
day school  room.  "No,  sir,  boss,  I  can't  do  dat.  If  I  open 
dem  doors,  de  preacher  ketch  de  acoustics,  shore." — Alabama 
Advocate. 


•  DON  T  MENTION  IT. 

This  amusing  story  was  told  of  the  little  niece  of  Phillips 
Brooks,  the  famous  divine,  relates  the  Philadelphia  Times: 

One  evening  as  her  mother  was  tucking  her  snugly  in  bed, 
the  maid  stepped  in  and  said  there  was  a  caller  waiting  in  the 

118 


Sundry  Subjects. 

parlor.  Her  mother  told  the  little  one  to  say  her  prayer,  and 
said  that  she  would  be  back  in  a  few  moments. 

The  caller  stayed  only  a  short  time,  and  when  the  mother 
went  upstairs  again  she  asked  the  little  girl  if  she  had  said 
her  prayer. 

"Yes,  mamma,  I  did  and  didn't,"  she  said. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  dear?" 

"Well,  mamma,  I  was  awfully  sleepy,  so  I  just  asked  God 
if  he  wouldn't  excuse  me  tonight,  and  He  said:  'Oh,  don't 
mention  it,  Miss  Brooks.'  " 

HAD   HELPED    BEFORE. 

Dr.  Edward  King,  the  venerated  and  saintly  Bishop  of  Lin- 
coln, in  England,  is  now  much  advanced  in  years  and  some- 
what infirm.  Recently  he  has  been  visiting  Bournemouth  for 
his  health,  and  T.  P.  O'Connor  tells  the  following  story  of  the 
venerable  prelate's  visit  to  that  seaside  health  resort :  After 
resting  for  some  time  one  afternoon  on  a  seat  on  the  parade 
the  Bishop  desired  to  move,  but,  owing  to  his  age  and  infirmi- 
ties, found  some  difficulty  in  rising.  A  kindhearted  little  girl 
of  the  town  notice  his  trouble  and  ran  up,  saying,  "Oh,  let  me 
help  you." 

The  good  Bishop  beamed  upon  the  child  with  one  of  his 
sweetest  smiles,  and  the  smile  of  the  Bishop  is  very  sweet 
indeed.  "You  are  a  dear  little  maiden,"  he  said,  "but  I  do 
not  think  you  are  strong  enough." 

"Why,  bless  you,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "I've  often  helped  up 
daddy  when  he  was  a  sight  worse  drunk  than  you  are !" 


THE  BAD   LITTLE  BOY  AND   THE   GOOD   PRESIDING  ELDER. 

Hon.  John  Dougherty,  of  Missouri,  says  that  in  one  of  the 
counties  in  his  congressional  district  there  lives  a  good  Chris- 
tian lady,  a  devout  and  constant  member  of  the  Methodist 

119 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Episcopal  Church,  South.  Some  days  before  the  day  of  a 
Quarterly  Conference  held  there  some  years  ago  our  good 
lady  friend  received  word  that  the  Presiding  Elder  would  be 
her  guest  for  a  few  days  during  the  meeting.  In  order  to 
convince  the  Elder  that  she  had  been  and  was  doing  her  Chris- 
tian duty  in  the  matter  of  training  her  only  child,  a  boy 
about  four  years  old,  to  walk  in  "the  straight  and  narrow 
path,"  she  thought  it  not  amiss  to  give  him  some  special  in- 
structions before  the  minister  arrived.  So,  taking  the  little 
fellow  upon  her  lap  one  day,  she  told  him  that  the  Presiding 
Elder,  a  big  and  great  man,  would  visit  them  soon  and  that 
he  would  "be  very  sure  to  ask  some  questions  about  your  Sun- 
day school,  how  you  like  your  teacher,  etc.  But  probably  the 
first  questions  he  asks  will  be:  What  is  your  name.?  How  old 
are  you.-^  Do  you  know  where  bad  boys  go  when  they  die? 
Now,  when  he  asks  your  name,  tell  him  Johnnie  Jones.  When 
he  asks  how  old  you  are,  tell  him  four  years  old,  and  when  he 
asks  if  you  know  where  bad  boys  go  when  they  die,  tell  him, 
using  the  Scriptural  word,  that  bad  boys,  when  they  die,  go  to 
hell."  John  was  drilled  on  these  questions  daily  until  the 
minister  came.  In  the  meantime  he  knew  by  rote  that  his 
name  was  Johnnie  Jones,  that  he  was  four  years  old  and  that 
when  bad  boys  die  they  go  to  hell. 

The  minister  was  a  portly  gentleman  of  friendly  manner 
and  pleasant  countenance.  After  receiving  a  cordial  wel- 
come, he  was  seated  in  the  sitting  room  and  the  proud  parent 
excused  herself  and  sought  Johnnie,  the  pride  and  expectancy 
of  her  life,  to  introduce  him  to  the  minister.  After  John's 
face  was  washed,  his  hair  combed  and  he  was  otherwise  made 
presentable,  his  mother  led  him  in  to  meet  the  preacher.  As 
the  urchin  entered  the  sitting  room  he  observed  through  the 
open  door  a  neighbor  playmate  sitting  on  the  fence  whistling 
for  him  and  calling  him  to  come  out  quick.  Johnnie  at  once 
grew  impatient  to  go  out  and  wished  the  ceremony  of  meeting 
the  preacher  and  answering  his  questions  to  be  done  with  as 

120 


Sundry  Subjects. 

quickly  as  possible.  The  doting  mother  introduced  him  as 
the  youngest  child,  the  baby  of  the  family.  The  good  min- 
ister called  the  boy  to  him  and,  taking  his  little  chubby  hand 
in  his  own,  remarked:  "What  a  very  handsome  lad?  How 
like  his  mother.'"'  His  next  question  was  exactly  as  had  been 
anticipated.  "Well,  my  little  man,  what  is  your  name.'"'  The 
boy  glanced  first  up  to  the  minister  then  at  his  waiting  play- 
mate and,  intending  to  expedite  matters  as  much  as  possible 
by  answering  the  three  expected  questions  at  once,  replied: 
"Johnnie  Jones,  four  years  old,  go  to  hell,"  and  in  the  con- 
fusion that  followed  skipped  out  to  meet  his  friend. — Champ 
Clarke. 


OPPOSITION  TO   USE  OF  TOBACCO. 

Our  Northern  brethren  will  run  along  the  line  of  abolition 
somewhere  now  and  then.  Climate  and  the  geographical  posi- 
tion have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the  spirit  of  abolition  and  the 
energy  with  which  it  is  enforced.  Commercial  profitableness 
in  a  material  thing  is  a  great  argument  in  favor  of  its  reten- 
tion ;  unprofitableness  suggests  abolition.  Tobacco  is  now 
receiving  serious  attention  by  not  a  few  Conferences  in  the 
North.  Resolutions  full  of  all  sorts  of  denunciatory  adjec- 
tives against  the  weed  and  use  are  passed  easily  before  a 
third  reading  in  their  solemn  synods,  and  the  preacher  before 
he  is  received  and  appointed  to  serve  a  charge  must  quit  his 
quid  and  sacrifice  his  smoke  and  cigar.  Down  South  in  many 
parts  where  tobacco  is  successfully  cultivated,  its  harvest  and 
manufacture  work  marvels  in  the  prosperity  of  the  country. 
When  it  flourishes  in  the  markets  the  hearts  of  all  sorts  of 
citizens  beat  high  with  hope,  and  the  man  with  a  mortgage  no 
longer  mourns,  while  good  people  sing  with  more  spirit  than 
ever  their  joyous  jubilees.  Tobacco  is  supplying  thousands 
with  employment,  shelter,  food  and  raiment.  The  weed 
maintains    schools,    build    churches    and    chapels,    pays    the 

121 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

preacher,  endows  Christian  institutions  of  learning,  and  sends 
the  gospel  to  the  poor.  But  it  doesn't  grow  well  in  New 
York  State,  and  our  pious  brethren  pass  their  resolutions.  A 
year  or  two  ago  a  Northern  Conference  had  a  special  com- 
mittee on  the  use  of  tobacco.  Their  report  was  as  follows: 
"The  use  of  tobacco  is  inconsitent  with  a  profession  of  the 
Christian  religion,  being  unnatural,  unclean,  selfish,  expen- 
sive, extravagant  and  offensive;  to  us  who  have  pledged  our- 
selves wholly  to  abstain  from  its  use,  it  is  sin.  Therefore,  be 
it  resolved,  That  we,  as  ministers  of  the  gospel,  use  our  influ- 
ence, both  by  precept  and  example,  to  induce  all  others  to 
abstain  from  its  use." 

Watch  that  resolution  of  the  North.  It  will  invade  the 
South  Carolina  Conference  after  awhile.  Sentimental  quack- 
ery travels  on  rapid  wings.  It  spreads  like  a  fad  or  fashion. 
I  have  heard  of  a  hat  in  Chicago — high,  clumsy  and  out- 
rageously feathered — I  read  descriptions  of  the  hat,  and 
quietly,  with  a  spirit  of  Christian  resignation,  waited  its 
coming — for  I  knew  it  was  the  "fashion"  and  bound  to  go. 
Ere  long  I  saw  that  same  hat  bobbing  about  in  the  congrega- 
tion as  the  people  would  assemble  or  disperse.  Many  men  are 
prone  somehow  to  stress  outward  things,  and  their  real  religion 
resembles  that  of  old.  Holiness  is  a  pious  grunt,  and  abstain- 
ing from  meats  and  drinks.  But  I  have  some  respect  for 
pious  prejudices,  though  sometimes  inconvenient  to  show,  and 
some  regard  for  a  religious  crank,  though  he  may  possess 
more  brass  than  brains.  I  do  not  enjoy  so  much  sitting  down 
at  a  dining  table  with  a  genuine  Jew,  eating  alone  pig  roast  or 
pork  sausage,  specially  prepared  for  my  Gentile  appetite.  It 
won't  be  long  before  I'll  be  up  and  going.  I  believe,  for  the 
sake  of  congeniality,  I'd  rather  deny  myself  of  hog,  and 
spend  a  few  pleasant  and  palatable  moments  devouring  the 
Jew's  fat  goose.  If  tobacco  offended  my  brother,  I  do  not 
like  to  use  it  in  his  presence,  having  regard  to  conscience  and 

122 


Sundry  Subjects. 

its  weakness,  but  when  I  have  no  longer  this  environment,  I 
smoke  my  pipe  in  peace. 


"A  certain  colored  clergyman  in  the  South  had  among  his 
parishioners  an  old  colored  'mammy'  whose  shortcomings  and 
backslidings  were  many,  and  who  caused  the  old  minister  to 
make  numerous  trips  to  'mammy's'  old  shanty,  followed  by 
exhortations  and  prayers.  After  a  long  time  he  succeeded 
in  causing  the  old  lady  to  renounce  one  by  one  each  of  her  bad 
habits  until  none  remained  but  the  old  black  pipe. 

"  'Sister  Maria,'  he  said  solemnly  one  night  after  an 
unusually  long  argument,  'how  you  'spec  to  meet  yo'r  Lord 
wif  sech  a  'baccy  href  .'^' 

"  'Bless  you,  honey,  dat's  all  right,'  cried  mammy.  'Befo'  I 
meets  my  Lord  I  'specs  to  lose  my  bref .'  " — New  York  Times. 

"ye  know  not  the  day  noe  the  hour." 

"She  was  taken  suddenly  sick  and  died  in  half  an  hour." 
Now  and  again  here  and  there  in  this  community  and  that, 
this  unwarned  departure  occurs,  when  the  soul  is  suddenly 
snatched  from  earth  to  eternity.  "What  I  say  unto  you  I 
say  unto  all,  watch ;  ye  know  neither  the  day  nor  the  hour." 

The  good  woman  alluded  to  above  was  doubtless  ready 
when  the  summons  came.  Her  pastor,  who  knew  her  well,  in 
the  obituary  said  she  was  a  faithful  Christian ;  but  there  are 
some  to  whom  the  sudden  summons  means  the  ending  of  the 
sinner's  career,  and  they  leave  nothing  behind  them  in  their 
life's  record  to  inspire  a  happy  hope  in  the  breast  of  the  fond 
and  affectionate  loved  ones  that  they  will  meet  in  blissful 
realms.  Said  a  cheerless  mother,  when  a  son  had  died :  "I 
could  easily  give  him  up  if  I  only  knew  he  was  saved  and  had 
died  in  the  faith."  The  sinner  is  a  fool.  He  "hates  knowl- 
edge."    That  he  should  be  a  Christian  he  will  f r-eely  confess ; 

123 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

that  he  can  be,  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  will  readily  admit; 
but  he  today  "will  not  come  to  Christ  that  he  might  have  life." 
He  knows  he  is  under  the  condemnation,  in  that  he  loves  dark- 
ness, and  that  the  sentence  against  the  evil  work  of  his  life  will 
be  executed  unless  he  repents.  He  does  not  repent  because  he 
thinks  that  sentence  will  not  be  executed  speedily.  This  is  a 
grave  and  gloomy  state  of  things,  but  true  as  applied  to  the 
common  sinners,  and  goes  to  prove  the  fearful  depravity  of 
the  human  heart  and  the  power  of  the  god  of  this  world. 

One  bright  spring  morning,  a  few  years  ago,  there  stood 
before  me  to  be  married  two  beings  whose  hearts  beat  as  one. 
They  were  young,  happy  and  hopeful,  but  their  happiness 
was  confined  to  this  world — they  entertained  no  hope  for  the 
other.  Their  anticipated  pleasures  were  connected  with  the 
honeymoon,  the  little  vine-clad  cottage  on  the  hillside,  and 
enhancing  the  home  and  laying  in  goods  for  future  days. 

One   day  I   said:  "Mrs.  ,  you  and  your  husband 

had  best  now,  in  the  beginning  of  your  married  life,  conse- 
crate your  united  lives  to  Christ,  and  let  yours  ever  be  a  Chris- 
tian home."  She  only  blushed  and  smiled.  Hardly  a  year 
had  passed  when  one  dark,  dreary  night  some  one  knocked  at 
the  parsonage  door.     In   a  nervous  and  agitated  voice  the 

errand  was  told :  Mrs.  S had  been  taken  ill,  was  at  the 

point  of  death,  and  wished  to  make  a  profession  of  religion 
and  be  received  into  the  Church  immediately.  Away  in  the 
wee  small  hours  of  morn  the  poor  girl  tossed  from  side  to  side 
in  the  clutches  of  a  dying  agony.  She  "did  not  want  to  be 
lost."  "Oh,  do  something  for  me!"  She  desired  to  be  a 
member  of  the  Church.  It  was  done ;  the  rite  was  perf  onned ; 
but  I've  always  feared  "the  door  was  shut."  Ere  the  sunlight 
of  another  day  broke  in  on  the  darkness  of  that  sad  abode, 
the  recent  blooming  bride  lay  still  at  last  in  the  embrace  of 
death. 


124 


Sundry  Subjects. 

"cast  thyself  down." 

Many  persons  who  visit  Nia^^aru  Falls  find  they  have  a 
great  desire  to  leap  from  various  points  on  the  several  bridges 
or  from  one  of  the  numerous  points  of  observation.  For  this 
reason,  after  once  having  experienced  the  fascinating  sensa- 
tion that  coaxes  them  on  to  death  in  the  deep  and  rapid  run- 
ning waters,  they  never  go  near  arty  of  the  seductive  points 
without  being  in  company  with  some  one  who  will  guard  them 
from  harm  as  a  result  of  what  perhaps  might  be  termed  by 
some  their  weakness.  Many  people  who  have  visited  Niagara 
have  confessed  that  the  waters  of  the  beautiful  river  had  a 
weird  fascination  for  them  while  standing  at  places  where 
death  would  be  easy  by  simply  letting  go  one's  hold  and  slip- 
ping into  the  river,  and  people  saved  from  suicide  there  have 
admitted  that  they  knew  no  reason  why  they  should  end  their 
hves,  but  the  scene  was  so  delightful  that  it  coaxed  them  to 
seek  the  peace  of  death  there. — Philadelphia  Record. 

I  stood  once  on  top  of  Caesar's  Head,  leaned  over  and  peered 
down  the  thrilling  depths  of  the  pei*pendicular  rock.  After 
the  first  flush  of  horror  at  the  sight  there  followed  very  gently' 
a  faint  impetus  to  crouch  and  jump  away  over  in  the  horrible 
void  and  go  plunging  down  below — but  I  didn't.  That  im- 
pression arrested  further  observation.  A  brother  minister 
was  with  me  at  the  time,  and  he  confessed  that  he  had  the  same 
sort  of  feeling.  I  reckon  there  are  such  crazy  suicidal  streaks 
in  most  human  beings  revealed  by  such  circumstances. 

Prof.  Low,  of  the  army  balloon  corps,  had  frequently 
invited  a  newspaper  correspondent  to  make  an  ascension  with 
him,  but  each  time  the  invitation  was  declined.  Later,  he 
told  the  professor  of  the  temptation  he  had  to  jump  from  high 
places  and  that  he  feared  making  an  ascent.  The  professor 
stated  that  the  reason  people  had  such  desires  was  that  they 
were  full  of  electricity ;  that  the  magnetic  current  in  the  earth 
was  its  attraction,  and  that  what  he  was  standing  on  carried 

125 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

the  current.  He  also  said  that  up  in  a  balloon  the  continuity 
was  cut  off.  Finally,  the  man  made  the  ascension  and  found 
that  the  desire  to  jump  was  not  present. 


AFRAID  or  LIGHTNING. 

The  Electric  Review  says :  Some  people  suffer  from  such 
an  acute  dread  of  lightning  that  it  renders  a  large  portion  of 
the  year  in  this  section  a  period  of  extreme  discomfort,  and  we 
have  always  believed  that  if  man  or  woman  kind  could  be 
taught  in  infancy — as  we  have  known  some  mothers  to  impress 
upon  their  children — that  nothing  was  to  be  feared  from  the 
lightning  flash  that  we  see,  it  would  lessen  to  a  great  extent 
the  sum  total  of  mental  suffering  from  this  cause.  Of  course 
it  can  be  argued  that  the  danger  of  being  "struck"  is  not 
hereby  diminished,  and  that  the  next  flash  contains  just  as 
much  menace  as  the  last;  but  no  one  goes  through  the  whole 
twelve  months  in  a  state  of  unreasoning  dread  of  an  electric 
death.  It  is  the  actual  storm  of  the  moment  that  suggests  the 
terror,  and  if  the  nerves  could  be  brought  under  control  to  the 
extent  of  viewing  the  blinding  glare  with  equanimity,  much  of 
the  source  of  disquietude  would  necessarily  be  eliminated,  for 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  statistics  tell  us  that  considering  the  fre- 
quency of  electric  commotions  and  the  numerous  instances 
of  the  fluid  "struck,"  the  fatalities  are  infinitely  small  in  com- 
parison. 

I  knew  an  old  sinner  in  Modoc  years  ago  who  would  swear 
and  gamble  when  skies  were  clear,  but  in  case  of  a  thunder- 
storm he'd  actually  creep  under  a  feather  bed  for  fear  and 
cower  until  the  clouds  passed  over.  Poor  fellow,  I  fear  the 
"Scratch"  has  him  before  now.  There  are  many  such  old 
sinners  in  the  land. 


126 


Sundry  Subjects. 

PROVIDENCE.  AND  THE  PROVIDENTIAL. 

Does  a  calamitious  event  that  naturally  follows  indiscretion 
or  inexcusable  negligence  come  under  the  head  of  provi- 
dential? Sometimes  a  poor  mortal  kills  himself  by  drink. 
We  follow  the  hearse,  weep  with  the  mourners  and  bereaved 
ones,  stand  at  the  grave,  and  say  "forasmuch  as  God  has 
taken  out  of  this  world  the  soul  of  our  deceased  brother  we 
therefore  commit,"  etc.  I  was  somewhat  embarrassed  once 
when  I  attended  the  burial  of  a  man  who  had  committed  sui- 
cide. Under  pressure  of  trouble  he  jumped  into  a  deep  jiver 
and  was  drowned.  A  few  days  afterwards  the  body  was 
found,  and  it  was  near  midnight  when  it  was  interred — a 
gruesome  scene — the  saddest  of  funerals.  But  his  death  was 
not  providential — and  I  refrained  from  saying  that  God  took 
him  out  of  this  world. 

I  came  across  the  other  day  a  little  volume  called  "The 
Three  Sisters."  The  author  was  a  heart-broken  father, 
whose  three  beautiful  and  affectionate  daughters  were  burned 
to  death  at  one  time.  He  speaks  in  this  way  of  the  terrible 
accident:  "This  was  one  of  the  most  afflictive  events  of  the 
unsearchable  ways  of  Providence  that  could  possibly  befall 
fond  parents."  The  sad  story,  briefly  told,  is  this:  The 
father,  mother  and  grandmother  went  off  on  a  visit  and  left 
the  three  sisters  at  home  with  a  female  servant.  The  three 
sisters  had  taken  their  supper  with  their  usual  cheerfulness. 
Matilda  (the  servant)  was  at  the  head  of  the  table,  washing 
the  tea  things.  Ann  was  by  her  side  wiping  them.  Hester 
came  in  with  a  book  in  her  hand,  and,  laying  it  on  the  table, 
went  to  the  press  to  get  the  can  of  lamp-fluid  to  replenish 
the  lamp.  She  filled  the  lamp,  assisted  by  Laura.  By  some 
means,  we  know  not  certainly  how,  the  fluid  took  fire.  Per- 
haps Laura,  who  held  the  top  of  the  lamp,  with  the  burning 
wick,  and  who  was  very  quick  and  impulsive  in  her  movements, 
when  she  saw  the  lamp  was  full,  without  the  least  thought  of 


127 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

danger,  aimed  to  put  the  top  on  the  lamp  before  her  sister  had 
time  to  remove  the  can.  All  instantly  were  enveloped  in 
flames.  I  don't  think  this  is  "a  way  of  providence."  It  was 
not  a  prudent  thing  to  leave  three  young  ladies,  the  oldest  not 
over  eighteen  summers,  in  a  home  alone,  the  parents  going  off 
on  a  long  visit.  It  would  have  been  an  excellent  idea  to  have 
left  with  the  girls  the  mother,  or  at  least  the  old  grand- 
mother. In  the  second  place,  it  was  a  piece  of  criminal 
imprudence  to  hold  a  blazing  lamp  wick  near  a  can  of  oil. 

Speaking  of  providence  and  the  providential,  reminds  me  of 
an  impressive  incident  related  in  a  conversation  by  the  late 
Dr.  J.  B.  Barbee  during  the  session  of  Conference  held  in 
Darlington  some  years  ago.  He  was  traveling  out  West  one 
night,  and  the  train  was  running  down  a  heavy  grade  in  a 
mountainous  section.  All  was  well,  but  he  felt  uneasy,  as  if 
in  anticipation  of  something  jeopardizing  to  life  or  limb — an 
unusual  state  of  feeling.  There  was  no  cause  to  be  alarmed 
in  regard  to  personal  safety.  He  was  constrained  to  pray, 
and  did  so  fervently.  A  dreadful  foreboding  would  not  leave 
him.  He  again  silently  and  in  faith,  from  his  seat  in  the  car, 
called  upon  the  Lord,  imploring  His  protection  upon  passen- 
gers and  His  guiding  eye  and  hand  for  the  engineer  and  those 
in  charge  of  the  fast-moving  train.  Directly  it  began  to 
"slow  up"  and  the  monster  engine  soon  stood  still.  The 
engineer  had  descried  ahead  a  dark  obstruction  on  the  track, 
which  proved  to  be  a  debris  of  earth  and  stone  that  had  fallen 
from  the  mountain  side.  Had  the  train  gone  on  it  would  have 
been  derailed  completely,  and  all  on  board,  such  was  the  fear- 
ful position  of  the  train  at  this  point,  would  doubtless  have 
perished.  Did  the  Spirit  arouse  the  soul  of  Dr.  Barbee  to  a 
sense  of  immediate  danger  it  was  unlawful  to  define?  And 
did  a  yielding  to  that  Spirit,  and  the  power  of  fervent  prayer, 
incite  the  engineer  to  wideawake  vigilance  at  the  dull  and 
dreary  hour  of  midnight  as  to  cause  him  to  detect  a  fatal 
obstruction  which  otherwise  might  not  have  been  seen.? 

128 


PART  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 
Rev.  Samuel  Spookendyke. 

Sometimes  the  popularity  of  a  predecessor  of  a  circuit,  sta- 
tion or  mission  is  a  source  of  much  annoyance,  unrest  and 
positive  irritation  to  the  successor  and  present  possessor  of  the 
rein  of  government  of  the  circuit,  station  or  mission.  Why 
is  this  ?     What  is  the  basis  of  the  psychological  phenomenon  ? 

Ought  we  not  to  rejoice  over  the  good  reputation  of  our 
fellow-preacher,  and  if  possible,  he  being  worthy,  seek  to 
increase  rather  than  be  a  means  of  detracting  from  his  grow- 
ing popularity?  This  principle  is  clearly  suggested  by  the 
law  of  love.  The  opposite  spirit  will  inevitably  in  time  breed 
envy  and  not  a  few  evil  dispositions. 

Once  upon  a  time — I  believe  that's  the  way  most  stories 
begin,  but  this  "once  upon  a  time"  contains  far  more  fact 
than  fiction — once  upon  a  time  I  was  associated  with,  we  will 
call  him  Brother  Blalock,  in  a  protracted  meeting.  Brother 
Blalock,  a  courteous,  good  gentleman,  had  not  been  in  charge 
of  the  circuit,  station  or  mission  very  long,  but  had  been  there 
a  sufficient  number  of  days  and  weeks  to  learn  that  his  pre- 
decessor, Rev.  Samuel  Spookendyke,  was  extremely  popular 
with  the  people.  We  indulged  in  a  pastoral  stroll  one  day, 
visiting  the  members.  The  first  home — an  important  one,  an 
official's  residence — lived  Brother  Shaggy.  Sister  Shaggy 
met  us  pleasantly  at  the  door  and  greeted  us  cordially.  We 
were  there  only  a  few  moments  when  Brother  Blalock  was 
requested  to  baptize  at  first  opportunity  little  "Spookendyke 
Shaggy" — just  a  year  old.  "For  me,  I  tell  you,"  said  Sister 
Shaggy,  "never  was  a  man  like  Brother  Spookend3^kc.  My 
ole  man  never  no  more  takes  a  chaw  of  tcrbacker  in  his  mouth 
now  than  if  it  wert  dirt.  Brother  Spookendyke  was  powerful 
gin  terbacker." 

133 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

I  noticed  here  that  Brother  Blalock  had  a  small  "quid  'n," 
but  he  wasn't  expectorating.  "Yes,  sirree,"  continued  the 
sister,  "he  was  a  power,  and  my  ole  man  says  he  'spects  never 
to  chaw  again." 

Brother  Shelly's  was  the  next  gate  at  which  we  stopped. 
He  was  in  the  front  yard  mending  his  fishing  tackle.  Bla- 
lock: "Brother   Shelly,   glad  to   see  you.     This   is    Brother 

W ,  who  is  assisting  us  in  our  meeting."     Shelly  shook 

hands,  but  seemed  indifferent — was  interested  in  his  fish  hooks 
and  lines. 

Blalock:  "Are  you  going  angling.  Brother  Shelly?" 

Shelly:  "No,  sir;  I'm  going  a-fishing.  Do  you  like  to  fish 
with  hook  and  line,  Brother  Blalock  ?" 

Blalock:  "Well,  sometimes." 

I  interposed  here  and  related  my  fishing  experience  in  part, 
and  how  I  did  love  to  catch  'em,  especially  cats  and  perch. 

Shelly :  "Well,  sir,  as  good  a  fisherman  as  ever  wet  a  Hne  in 
these  waters  'bout  here  was  Brother  Spookendyke.  He  was 
here  last  year,  but  they  sent  him  across  the  country.  That 
man  would  fish  with  you  all  day — never  got  out  of  patience, 
and  when  the  sun  went  down  he  was  still  at  it.  I  did  love  to 
fish  with  Brother  Spookendyke." 

Mrs.  Tabitha  Trepan,  a  widow  lady,  fat  and  fifty,  lived 
near  the  manse.  She  had  a  large  family,  a  nervous,  quaking 
body  and  parts,  a  tremulous  voice,  and  an  expression  in  her 
big,  round  face  that  varied  fearfully.  Sometimes  it  was  very 
sad  and  grave,  and  then  in  a  moment  it  would  change  to  be 
often  too  gay  and  giddy.  She  had  been  a  lone,  lorn  widow 
for  nearly  five  years.  Mr.  Trepan  was  a  hard-working  man, 
as  all  the  neighbors  would  testify.  He  was  the  night  watch- 
man in  the  big  cotton  mill,  and  generally  dug  or  superintended 
the  digging  of  all  the  graves  of  the  villagers  as  they'd  one 
by  one  "shake  off  these  mortal  coils."  Mr.  Trepan,  the 
neighbors  said,  was  a  silent  man — never  had  much  to  say. 
He  has  been  known  to  sit  for  hours  a  summer's  morning  in 

134 


Rev.  Samuel  Spookendyke. 

the  cool  entry  of  his  humble  home  with  arms  folded  as  if  in 
profound  meditation.  His  wife,  all  bustle  and  fuss,  would 
attend  to  her  domestic  work,  and,  having  failed  to  excite  or 
arouse  her  thoughtful  husband  to  talk  on  town  topics,  she  has 
been  known  to  talk  to  the  cats,  ask  the  dog  questions,  and 
quarrel  with  the  fowls  that  would  trespass  in  the  kitchen. 
Mortals,  in  this  world,  and  the  only  one,  often  marry  their 
contrasts.  I  have  seen  a  very  long  man  married  to  a  very 
short  woman ;  a  little,  thin  man  have  a  big  barrel  of  a  wife ; 
a  shrinking,  modest  man  have  a  bold,  dashing,  chatterbox 
wife.  And  when  you  find  a  Mr.  Trepan,  you  will  likely  dis- 
cover a  Mrs.  Tabitha. 

It  wasn't  long  after  we  had  called  on  Mrs.  Trepan  before 
she  introduced  her  troubles  and  spoke  feelingly  of  her  late 
lamented  husband,  "lovable,  best,  faithfullest  husband  that 
ever  did  live."  As  she  proceeded  with  the  sad  story  the  round, 
fat  face  grew  sad  and  sadder,  and  now  and  then  the  tear  would 
fall,  as  fond  recollections  of  conjugal  happiness  stirred  the 
widowed  heart.  "I  will  never  forget,"  continued  Mrs.  Tre- 
pan, "the  evening  my  poor  Jerry  changed  for  the  worse.  He 
kept  a-callin'  for  his  lantern.  It  'peared  like  he  was  about  to 
go  on  his  night-watch  rounds  in  the  big  mill.  He  kept 
a-callin'  for  his  lantern.  And  then  he'd  be  quiet  awhile — 
just  betwixt  midnight  and  day  he  said  to  me,  'Tabby,  give  me 
my  lantern — my  last  round,  my  last  round,  and  then  I  will  go 
to  sleep."  Then  he  was  still.  I  felt  of  his  feet,  and  they 
were  cold.  And  his  knees,  and  they  were  cold  as  any  stone, 
and  upwards  and  upwards,  and  all  was  cold  as  any  stone.  Sez 
I,  'Jerry !  Jerry !'  but  he  never  answered ;  he  was  gone."  The 
widow  wept.  I  confess  my  eye  was  somewhat  moistened,  but 
I  looked  at  Blalock.  He  seemed  gloomy  and  peculiar.  May 
be  he  was  thinking  of  what  probably  was  next  coming  from 
the  widow,  for  she  would  hold  the  floor.  "Well,"  she  said, 
after  a  pause  and  reaction,  "Brother  Spookendyke  was  a  great 
comfort  to  my  poor  soul.     He'd  never  go  by  my  gate  without 

135 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

stopping.  And  he'd  make  himself  at  home  when  here,  too, 
for  all  the  world  just  like  one  of  the  children."  Here  the  sad 
expression  in  the  big,  round  face  would  take  its  departure  like 
darkness  before  the  sunshine.  "He'd  come  in,  he  would,  and 
say,  'Sister  Trepan,  I  am  hungry,'  and  he'd  go  to  the  cup- 
board himself — and  help  himself!  (Laughter — somewhat  of 
a  hysterical  tendency.)  And  one  day,  I  remember  it  well,  he 
went  into  the  kitchen  betwixt  10  and  11,  and,  sez  he,  'Look 
here,  I  smell  something  good  a-cooking.'  One  of  the  boys  had 
caught  a  'possum  the  day  before,  and  it  was  in  the  pot 
a-baking  with  'taters  around  it,  and  he  peeped  into  the  pot 
and  said,  '  'Possum  and  'taters,  sure  as  you  are  bom !  I'll 
be  back  here  for  dinner.'  "      (More  laughter.) 

As  we  were  going  home.  Brother  Blalock  walking  "melan- 
choly and  slow,"  remarked:  "You  see  what  I  have  to  endure. 
I  have  been  here  three  months  or  more,  and  I  have  heard  noth- 
ing but  'Spookendyke.'  It's  Spookendyke  this  and  Spooken- 
dye  that,  and  I  am  just  sick  and  tired  of  it.  What  is  there  in 
it  to  so  charm  the  people  as  to  cause  them  to  be  discourteous 
and  oblivious  to  the  present  situation.''  He  joked  with  Mrs. 
Shaggy,  fished  with  old  man  Shelly,  and  ate  'possum  with  that 
chief  of  cranks,  Mrs,  Trepan.  And  it's  just  that  way  all 
'round.  I  can't  fish  with  Shelly,  nor  eat  'possum,  which  I  dis- 
like, and  I  shall  not  joke  with  old  Mrs.  Shaggy  just  to  get  her 
to  laugh  or  name  a  baby  for  me.  It's  a  misfit  here,  sure.  I 
had  rather  be  sent  to  Halifax." 

Bishop  Galloway,  a  few  years  ago,  in  one  of  his  interesting 
Conference  talks,  exhorted  the  preachers  to  refrain  from  writ- 
ing letters  to  member-friends  of  their  former  charges  after 
they  had  been  transferred  and  moved  to  their  new  homes. 
When  they  (the  preachers)  left  the  charges,  to  leave  them 
altogether,  nor  cast  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind.  I 
thought  at  the  time  this  was  an  unnecessary  episcopal  deliver- 
ance, but  no  doubt  the  Bishop  had  in  mind  such  cases  as 
Spookendyke  and  Blalock,  and  one  then  can  readily  see  good 

136 


List  of  Leading  Laymen — South  Carolina  Conference. 

grounds  for  the  above  exhortation.  In  this  instance  it  would 
be  best  for  Blalock's  peace  and  spiritual  elevation  to  keep 
Spookendyke's  body  and  parts  from  the  charge  where  the 
former  flourished,  and  all  of  his  written  and  verbal  communi- 
cations. There  is  some  ministerial  vanity  in  this  world,  and 
other  scattered  fragments  of  the  remains  of  sin.  Sometimes 
there  is  displayed  more  eagerness  for  popularity  than  a  real 
desire  to  see  the  spread  and  progress  of  our  holy  religion. 

The  general  situation  in  the  above  case  would  hardly  be 
changed  if  we  would  or  could  substitute  Blalock  for  Spooken- 
dyke — except  personally.  Here  we  would  find  Blalock  the 
picture  of  complacency,  while  Spookendye  would  have  that 
turmoil  of  mind,  and  troubled  spirit  evinced  by  Blalock.  If 
this  be  true,  and  that  it  is  a  reasonable  conclusion  as  a  gen- 
eral rule  is  fearfully  probable,  then  the  reason  why  in  such 
instances  there  is  envy,  jealousy,  disquietude  is  because  of 
similarity  of  disposition  and  character,  and  the  identical 
spirit  worketh  all  in  all.  Blalock  and  Spookendyke  move 
along  on  the  same  level,  the  same  psychological  track,  and 
stand  generally  on  the  same  platform  of  principles.  "When 
I  was  a  child,  I  understood  as  a  child,  I  thought  as  a  child; 
but  when  I  became  a  man,  I  put  away  childish  things." 


CHAPTER  II. 

List  of  Leading  Layrnen — South  Carolina  Conference. 

This  is  not  a  complete  roll — only  a  partial  list  of  the  noble 
gentlemen  who  are  noted  for  their  loyalty  and  love  for  the 
Church  and  the  kingdom.  I  will  just  write  down  the  names 
as  they  come  to  me,  and  follow  with  the  definitive  or  descrip- 
tive words  which  their  character  and  conduct  might  instantan- 
eously suggest.  Should  a  name  arise,  and  the  mien  and 
manner  come  trooping  up,  of  one  rather  conspicuous  around 

137 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

the   church   altar,   who    cannot    command   safe    and    rehable 

adjectives,  I'll  just  put  a  blank  for the  name,  and 

write  the  adjectives,  trusting  he  will  forgive  me  freely  for 
telling  the  truth. 

I  will  thus  begin  and  continue,  taking  this  one  and  that  one 
without  regard  to  circumstances  or  conditions  in  life: 

Judge  Dantzler — Sharp,  short  and  decisive.  In  inches 
about  the  size  of  the  First  Napoleon. 

O.  B.  Riley — The  Cornelius  of  the  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence— "a  devout  man;"  "gives  much  alms  and  prays  to  God 
always." 

James  Guess — Fat  and  fifty ;  will  never  commit  suicide — 
too  fond  of  hog  and  hominy  and  happy  days  here  below. 
Church  worker. 

Asa  Perritt — Teacher,  surveyor,  steward,  farmer.  Can  do 
two  things  at  a  time.  Hearty  and  healthy.  Leads  a  strenu- 
ous life. 

Geo.  Hodges — A  saint  persevering,  I'm  persuaded,  by 
prayer  and  good  works.  A  good  Sunday  school  teacher,  a 
better  Sunday  school  superintendent  and  a  skilled  Sunday 
school  organizer. 

J.  B.  Williams — Modest  man,  retiring  disposition.  Mixes 
his  religion  with  his  business,  getting  gray  and  growing  in 
goodness. 

Arthur  Rembert — Keen  "kutter."  Built  on  the  Canadian 
pony  order.  Can  outwork  four  fat  men.  A  lover  of  good 
people. 

Look  out  for  trouble  here !    He  is  fussy  and  foxy. 

Curious  and  cranky — but  hitting  it  for  the  kingdom. 

W.  H.  Hardin — Long-legged,  lank  and  liberal.  Loyal 
and  true  to  his  Church  and  country,  and  is  as  polite  as  was 
Chesterfield. 

G.  H.  HofFmeyer — Delicate  and  dutiful.  Sprung  from 
some  good  Dutch  or  German  family.  Excellent  steward. 
Will  be  missed  when  he  goes  to  heaven. 

138 


List  of  Leading  Laymen — South  Carolina  Conference. 

J.  G.  Clinkscales — Bald,  bold  and  brainy.  A  Christian 
by  experience  and  a  teacher  by  profession.  He  sees  in  this 
year  of  grace,  1907,  a  big  political  'possum  up  a  tree,  and  he 
is  tempted  to  shake  'em  down. 

John  Anderson — Built  his  fortune  from  the  stump.  Plain 
and  practical.  Capital  Sunday  school  worker.  A  little 
elderly  now,  but  progressive. 

Edward  Staley — Obscure  and  humble.  "To  fame  and 
fortune  unknown,"  but  deserving  of  fame,  and  may  be  worth 
a  fortune. 

Another  trouble  in  Zion.     This  brother  is  one  of 

brass,  and  blatant.  Exhibits  more  policy  than  piety,  more 
gas  than  grace.  Will  improve  when  he  gets  very  old,  and 
sensuality  dies  in  him,  and  when  the  teeth  are  all  gone. 

J.  Lyles  Glenn — Thinks  seriously  about  both  worlds. 
Takes  things  easy.     Has  dollars,  ducats  and  dignity. 

McLeod — Lieut.-Gov.  Has  more  intellectual  acumen  than 
you  would  think  at  first  glance.  He  is  fat,  but  not  foul; 
ruddy,  but  not  rough. 

Coke  Grier — Always  in  a  state  of  bodily  affliction.  Re- 
ligious and  reliable.  Walks  humbly — loves  his  Church,  and 
he  is  the  preacher's  friend. 

Judge  Prince — Bom  well,  reared  well,  married  well.  All's 
well  with  Prince.  He  will  grow  in  grace  even  on  a  bench  in  a 
court  house  of  lawyers. 

Leiand  Moore — Sympathetic  nature  and  kind.  He  would 
paint  all  scenes  and  conditions  here  below  in  brightest  colors. 
Optimistic. 

W.  G.  Austin — A  Confederate  veteran  with  one  arm. 
True  and  tried.  Always  in  his  place  in  church ;  never  out  of 
his  place  outside  the  church. 

Dr.  A.  S.  Hydrick — Clever  conversationalist.  Feels  pulses 
and  acts  on  livers.  Knows  how  to  dose  and  diagnose.  The 
man  to  send  for,  if  you've  a  limb  to  saw  off,  or  got  a  cramp, 
or  colic. 

139 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Judge  Gage — ^Much  leanness  and  learning.  Has  tact  and 
talent.  Sociable,  Knows  how  to  entertain.  Vitality  strong. 
Has  a  judicial  aspect. 

J.  Fuller  Lyon — Manner  and  mien  of  a  soldier.  Looking 
at  him  the  close  observer  would  say,  "That  man  has  'fou't'." 
The  equipment  of  the  Conference  would  not  be  complete  with- 
out him, 

Joseph  A.  McCullough — Handsome  and  handy.  He  would 
make  a  tip-top  chief  of  police,  or  a  steward  of  a  church,  or 
an  excellent  undertaker — or  a  good  Governor  of  South 
Carolina. 

R.  H.  Jennings — Safe,  sound  mortal.  Pious  and  patriotic. 
Seems  to  be  very  fond  of  children,  grandchildren  and  great- 
grandchildren— good  sign. 

J,  Thos.  Austin — Sympathetic — tender  sensibilities.  Cour- 
teous and  clever  and  a  prudent  politician.  He  will  likely  live 
to  be  very  old,  and  dying,  will  not  leave  a  widow  behind  him. 

Here  the  spirit  of  another  source  of  vexation  in 

the  Church  comes  to  me.  Sometimes  he  is  very  good,  other 
times  he  is  very  mean.  He  knows  how  to  act  in  either  role. 
A  born  anarchist.  Gets  very  sick  occasionally — disappoint- 
ing ;  he  won't  die. 

Dr.  J.  L.  B.  Gilmore — A  man  of  a  few  initials  and  good 
traits.  Gentle  in  manner,  conscientious  churchman.  Delicate 
in  health,  but  fond  of  prescribing  pills,  plasters  and  panaceas 
for  others. 

Purdy,  the  Prudent — Plain,  unpretentious.  Walks  softly. 
Esteemed  citizen  and  excellent  judge.  The  bench  would  have 
been  a  gainer  could  he  have  been  retained. 

Latimer,  United  States  Senator — His  pastor  appreciates 
his  membership,  "quarterage"  and  co-operation.  The  high 
public  office  he  occupies  has  improved  him  in  girth,  gear  and 
gumption.  Some  one  will  want  before  long  his  seat  in  the 
Senate. 

140 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

Collins  of  Conway — All  his  family,  brothers  and  sisters, 
died  of  consumption,  and  his  has  been  a  long,  steady  fight 
against  disease.  He  will  succeed  and  die,  Collins,  the  aged. 
Nervous  temperament,  stirring  Church  worker,  and  always 
glad  to  get  into  a  good  shouting  meeting. 

Wallace  of  Newberry — Had  he  had  ambition  he'd  made 
before  now  his  mark  on  the  tablet  of  fame.  For  years  he  has 
been  toiling  on  the  tripod,  eschewing  evil,  keeping  the  faith 
and  writing  the  best  English. 

J.  B.  Sykes — Diligent  in  business,  fervent  in  spirit.  He  is 
a  capital  city  Church  usher,  an  important  office,  a  faithful 
church-goer,  and  will  sweetly  sleep  all  during  a  tedious  dis- 
course, a  quiet  Sunday  morning. 

Featherstone  of  Laurens — Intelligent  Christian.  Has  read 
much,  writes  well — and  sleeps  well — with  a  clear,  good  con- 
science, being  a  lawyer,  too. 

Dr.  W.  J.  Murray — Mighty  in  liniments  and  medicinal 
liquids.  Has  innocent  face,  classic  cut  features.  It  would 
be  a  shocking  surprise  if  it  were  known  that  he  could  commit 
one  mean  thing. 

"What  a  piece  of  work  is  man ! 
How  noble  in  reason ;  how  infinite  in  faculties ! 
In  form  and  moving,  how  express  and  admirable! 
In  action,  how  like  an  angel,  in  apprehension  how  like  a  god ! 
The  beauty  of  the  world !  the  paragon  of  animals." 


CHAPTER  III. 

This,  That  and  T'other. 

The  race  of  existence  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the  battle  of 
life  to  the  strong.  Old  age,  bent  and  furrowed  by  the  storms 
of  many  years,  often  drops  a  tear  over  a  young  man's  bier, 

141 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

and  trembling  decrepitude  not  infrequently  sighs  over  the 
untimely  death  of  the  beautiful  and  once  blooming  bride. 


How  to  build  up  and  keep  going  the  Sunday  school : 

1.  Get  there,  old  and  young. 

2.  Get  there  on  time. 

3.  Let  officers  and  teachers  begin  exercises  promptly  on 
time. 

4.  Don't  talk  the  httle  fellows  out  of  patience. 

5.  Avoid  long  prayers. 

6.  Don't  try  to  run  the  business  without  religion.  Teachers 
and  officers  should  meet  every  Sunday  before  the  exercise 
began,  and  hold  a  prayer  meeting. 

7.  Close  promptly,  don't  prolong;  let  everything  be  done 
decently  and  in  order. 

*   *   * 

A  Western  editor  recently  announced  that  for  just  one 
issue  he  would  tell  the  truth ;  the  whole  truth,  naked  and 
unvarnished.  That  is,  the  truth  was  to  be  naked  and 
unvarnished.     Here  is  one  item  from  that  issue : 

"Married — Miss  Sylvia  Smith  to  Mr.  James  Comaham  last 
Saturday  at  the  Baptist  parsonage.  The  bride  is  a  very 
ordinary  girl  about  town,  who  doesn't  know  any  more  than 
a  rabbit  about  cooking,  and  never  helped  her  poor  old  mother 
three  days  in  her  life.  She  is  not  a  beauty  by  a  long  shot, 
and  has  a  gait  like  a  fat  duck.  The  groom  is  known  as  an 
up-to-date  loafer  and  has  been  living  off  his  mother  all  his 
life.     They  will  have  a  tough  time  of  it." 

•*   *   * 

A  Scotchman,  discussing  his  former  pastors,  said:  "Our 
first  minister  was  a  man,  but  not  a  preacher;  our  second  min- 
ister was  a  preacher,  but  not  a  man ;  and  the  third  was 
neither  a  man  nor  a  preacher." 

142 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

Most  sinners  will  get  religious  when  they  get  scared.  They 
will  smite  the  breast  in  time  of  an  earthquake,  or  when  a 
cyclone  is  coming.  I  am  told  on  good  authority  that  a 
prayerless  man,  who  Hved  in  Chester  County,  was  once  threat- 
ened with  a  terrible  tornado,  he  thought.  It  was  about  2 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  a  hot  summer  day.  The  black, 
rolling  western  cloud  seemed  pent  with  fury  and  full  of 
wrath.  With  the  first  house-cracking  blow  the  sinner  sought 
the  closet,  and  amidst  the  noise  of  roaring  winds,  the  poor 
fellow,  scared  out  of  his  wits,  could  only  think  of  the  "Now 
I  lay  me  down  to  sleep"  prayer,  which  he  very  earnestly 
uttered. 

*  *  * 

A  certain  preacher  asserts  that  all  he  wants  a  day  to  relieve 
physical  wants  is  sweet  milk,  one  gallon,  and  corn  bread. 
That  is  something  like  the  appetite  of  a  calf,  but  it  is  inno- 
cent and  wholesome,  and  it's  milk  for  the  Word. 

Have  you  observed  how  those  little  nutmeg,  teacup,  "Peri- 
helion" and  pericranium  societies  do  grow  in  some  towns  and 
cities.'*  The  saints  seek  culture,  and  the  society  gatherings 
are  more  popular  than  prayer  meetings.  I  have  read  a 
notice  something  like  this :  "Miss  Melissa  Pearl  Titmouse  will 
read  an  essay  at  the  Wednesday  night  meeting  of  the  Nutmeg 
Club  on  the  life  and  character  of  FalstafF."  FalstafF  is  an 
interesting  ci'eation,  but  you  have  to  go  down  into  the  slums 
to  find  him.  His  life  is  at  its  best  when  full  of  "sack"  in  the 
barroom  of  an  inn,  and  his  true  character  is  clearly  shown 
when  among  "the  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor."  Miss  Pearl 
Titmouse  should  devote  her  literary  efforts  to  refined  and 
elevating  topics  at  the  Nutmeg  Club,  and  let  all  old  Jack 

FalstafFs  alone. 

*  *  * 

A  traveling  man  lately  wandered  into  a  remote  hotel  that 
doesn't  keep  a  dictionary,  and  on  coming  down  in  the  morning 

143 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

was  asked  by  the  landlord  how  he  rested,  "Oh,"  replied  the 
gentleman,  "I  suffered  nearly  all  night  from  insomnia."  The 
landlord  was  mad  in  a  minute,  and  roared:  "I'll  bet  you  two 
dollars  there  ain't  one  in  my  house." — Sel. 

*  *  * 

A  West  Virginia  man  eloped  with  a  woman  weighing  432 
pounds.  The  Columbia  Record  adds:  "The  dispatch  does 
not  give  details,  but  it  is  presumed  that  he  took  her  all  at  one 
time." 

This  poor  mortal  is  doubtless  one  of  those  who  walk  after 
the  flesh,  and  not  in  the  spirit. 

*  *  * 

Uncle  George  Tillman,  who  died  not  long  ago,  was  a 
notable  character  in  Carolina  politics  for  years,  but  somehow 
he  didn't  take  to  religion.  He  contributed  once,  one  hun- 
dred dollars  to  the  building  of  a  Baptist  church  in  Clark's 
Hill,  provided  they  put  no  bell  in  the  belfry.  The  church  was 
built,  but  no  bell  ever  rang  there.  The  preacher  at  the 
funeral,  eulogizing,  call  the  dead  statesman  a  "Prince  in 
Israel,"  but  I  don't  think  Uncle  George  had  any  of  the  char- 
acteristics of  the  true  Christian  Israelite.  He  didn't  worship 
in  the  temple,  nor  did  he  ever  confess  Christ  Jesus,  the  Lord. 
He  was  kind  and  gentle  when  he  wasn't  mad,  loved  his  friends 
and  hated  his  enemies.  He  was  one  of  the  most  hospitable 
gentlemen  I've  ever  known.  "Whenever  you  come  to  Clark's 
Hill,"  he  was  accustomed  to  say  to  even  a  comparative 
stranger,  "be  sure  to  make  my  house  your  home." 

*  *   * 

Illiteracy  is  conspicuous  in  many  of  our  mill  towns,  and  the 
rambling,  roaming  life  so  generally  practised  will  keep  for 
years  the  percentage  of  ignoramuses  at  a  fearful  figure  unless 
some  strict  compulsory  law  is  enacted  and  enforced.  The 
stark  ignorance  and  illiteracy  everywhere  seen,  everywhere 
felt,  can  be  demonstrated  to  be  the  horrid  generator  of  breed- 

144 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

ing  evils  that  afflict  most  woefully  Church  and  State.  It  is 
the  unread,  unthinking  crowd  that  are  most  swayed  by  their 
feelings,  and  whose  greatest  enjoyment  is  realized  when  they 
indulge  in  low  sensual  pleasures.  "My  people  are  perishing 
for  the  lack  of  knowledge." 

I  move  around  much  among  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men. 
I  see  blots  and  blemishes  here  and  there,  deformities  and  per- 
versities, but  'fore  God  the  most  terrible  thing  that's  come  my 
way  in  this  great  day  is  that  combination  which  to  be  hated 
need  but  to  be  seen :  Ignorance  and  sin.  When  lodged  in  the 
individual  soul,  in  head  and  heart,  you  will  invariably  and 
inevitably  find  all  the  dirt  and  devil  of  this  old  world.  How 
we  in  South  Carolina  do  delight  to  talk  about  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  superiority,  the  white  man's  supremacy.  We  harp  on 
white  supremacy  and  continuity  of  the  white  man's  suprem- 
ac}'',  at  the  same  time  in  this  day  of  greatest  educational 
facilities  we  are  dragging  along  forty  to  sixty  thousand  white 
illiterates.  The  Anglo-American,  fully  developed,  is  the 
highest  conception  of  man.  His  perfected  powers  make  him 
monarch  of  all  he  surveys.  His  soul,  I  believe,  is  more  sus- 
ceptible to  educational  forces  than  other  races,  and  he  has 
inherent  power  to  sway  the  rod  of  empire  "or  wake  to  ecstasy 
the  living  lyre,"  but  that  Anglo-American  unlearned  and 
untutored  is  obliged  to  sink  to  an  inferior  station  and  bow  in 
submission  to  superior  power.     And  power  is  in  mind. 

I  believe  in  a  compulsory  education  law,  because  it  means 
light,  liberty  and  elevation  where  darkness  dwells.  The  par- 
ent who  loves  his  country  and  offspring,  the  law  would  not 
affect.  He'd  be  unconscious  of  such  a  law,  but  the  other 
fellow,  far  gone  from  original  righteousness,  should  be  com- 
pelled for  his  own  sake  to  do  his  duty  where  neglect  is  sin 
against  child.  Church  and  civilization. 

*   *   * 

In  speaking  of  small  children,  don't,  for  mercy's  sake,  refer 
to  them  as  "kids."     Sometimes  you  may  hear  a  young  father 

145 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

speak  of  his  two  or  three  "kids"  at  home.  I  heard  a  young 
woman,  in  a  community  where  it  was  customary  to  speak  of 
children  in  the  way  I'd  condemn,  make  reference  to  her  child- 
hood when  she  was  quite  a  "kid."  The  word  doesn't  sound 
right,  and  in  some  cases  it  is  too  near  the  truth.  The  parents 
of  kids  are  goats. 

*  *  * 

Who  uses  "No.  6"  these  days,  and  why  is  it  called  No.  6?  I 
am  told  it  is  horrible  stuff;  a  mere  taste  of  the  drug,  it  is 
said,  lingers  for  hours.  Years  ago  a  good  old  local  preacher 
was  preparing  to  administer  the  sacrament.  A  dear  elderly 
sister,  half -blind,  had  prepared  the  elements,  and  had  unknow- 
ingly placed  a  bottle  of  "No.  6"  in  the  basket,  thinking  it  was 
the  wine  bottle.  When  the  time  came  in  the  impressive  cere- 
mony, the  solemn  and  earnest  person  poured  forth  the  No.  6, 
and,  alas,  drank  thereof.  I  am  told  the  scene  that  followed 
was  awful.  The  sneezing,  snorting  and  hiccoughing  that 
issued  in  startling  succession  from  within  the  chancel  alarmed 
the  worshipers.  When  it  was  possible  to  pause  and  to  regain 
his  breath,  the  distracted  preacher  exclaimed,  with  emphasis: 
"Merciful  fathers ;  brethren,  something  is  wrong."  It  was 
soon  discovered  that  the  bottle,  indeed,  was  a  wine  bottle, 
but  the  contents  were  those  elements  that  make  the  "No.  6." 


The  editor  of  the  Richmond  Advocate  thinks  pulpit  orators 
should  not  be  made  Presiding  Elders,  on  the  ground  that 
the  fervent  orator  is  unbalanced  and  is  very  likely  to  be  lack- 
ing in  common  sense.  The  editor  exaggerates  as  usual  to 
carry  his  point.  Dr.  LafFerty  is  eloquent.  He  says :  "It  is 
a  psychological  axiom  that  an  orator  is  unbalanced.  Elo- 
quence is  exaggeration.  There  is  excessive  expansion  of  the 
mental  iris — 'sees  men  as  trees  walking.'  They  are  not  safe 
for  leadership.  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  Mirabeau,  lost  their 
popularity.     A    tongue-tied    man — Moses — delivered   Israel. 

146 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

The  glib  Aaron  was  a  failure  as  a  captain.  Think  of  the 
golden  calf  and  the  return  to  the  Nile.  Think  of  Munsey 
selecting  preachers  to  man  a  district." 

*   *   * 

A  man,  on  being  asked  by  some  companions  to  go  into  a 
saloon  and  have  a  drink  with  them,  said:  "I  won't  drink  any 
today,  boys." 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  old  man.?"  asked  one.  "If 
you've  quit,  what's  up.'*" 

"Well,  boys,  I'll  tell  you.  Yesterday  I  was  in  Chicago.  I 
called  on  a  customer  of  mine  down  on  Clark  street,  who  keeps 
a  pawnshop  in  connection  with  his  other  business.  While  I 
was  there  a  young  man  came  in,  wearing  threadbare  clothes, 
and  looking  as  hard  as  they  make  'em.  He  had  a  little  pack- 
age in  his  hand.  He  unwrapped  it  and  handed  it  to  the 
pawnbroker,  saying,  'Give  me  ten  cents.'  And  what  do  you 
suppose  it  was.?  It  was  a  pair  of  baby's  shoes,  little  things, 
with  the  buttons  only  a  trifle  soiled,  as  though  they  had  been 
won  only  once  or  twice,  'Where  did  you  get  these?'  asked 
the  pawnbroker.  'Got  'em  at  home,'  replied  the  man.  'My 
wife  bought  'em  for  the  baby.  Give  me  ten  cents  for  'em — I 
want  to  get  a  drink'  'You  had  better  take  them  back  to  your 
wife;  the  baby  will  need  them,'  said  the  pawnbroker.  'No, 
she  won't ;  she's  dead — baby  died  last  night,'  and  then  the 
poor  fellow  laid  his  head  down  on  the  show  case  and  cried  like 
a  child.  Boys,  I  have  a  baby  at  home,  and  I'll  not  take  a 
drink  with  you  today." — National  Advocate. 


Scene  1 — Venerable  preacher,  Quaker  proclivities,  depart- 
ing for  railroad  station,  to  good  sister:  "Well,  now,  good- 
bye.    Peace  be  to  thee,  my  sister." 

Sister:  "Good-bye,  Uncle  Penn"  (kissing  him). 

Scene   II — In   another   part   of  the   castle,   the   venerable 

147 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

preacher's  figure  fast  receding  in  the  distance,  leaving  the 
good  girl  behind  him. 

Good  Sister:  "Lor'  me,  Uncle  Penn  kissed  me." 

Chorus  of  Maids  and  Maidens :  "My !  oh  mercy !  me !  oh ! 
oh!  oh!" 

Sister :  "Yes ;  he  said,  'Please  kiss  me,  my  sister,'  and 
I  er— " 

Small  Girl,  interrupting:  "No,  he  didn't,  auntie.  I  was 
near  you.     Uncle  Penn  said,  'Peace  be  to  thee,  my  sister.'  " 

*  *   * 

A  sad  sight  in  this  world  of  trial  and  preparation,  yea,  the 
saddest,  is  a  poor  man  without  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ. 
A  poor  man  with  no  chattels,  no  hereditaments,  with  a  small 
area  of  half-cultivated  land,  running  his  forty  acres  and  a 
mule,  mostly  mortgaged,  without  grace  and  hope  of  glory 
beyond,  is  a  woeful  spectacle.  He  will  miss  the  ducats  in  this 
world  and  catch  the  devil  in  the  next.  The  rich  man  of  whom 
our  Saviour  speaks,  "clothed  in  purple  and  faring  sumptu- 
ously every  day,"  was  enjoying  his  heaven  while  Lazarus  at 
his  gate  was  tormented  by  poverty  and  afflicted  in  body.  In 
course  of  time  Lazarus  entered  his  heaven,  and  the  other  got 
his  reward.  "In  hell  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  being  in  torment." 
There  are  many  poor  mortals  in  this  land  of  ours  who  have 
neither  grub  nor  grace.  They  live  in  a  cruel  servitude  and  in 
want,  and  will  not  seek  to  be  released  and  relieved  by  the  great 
poor  man's  Friend,  who  said,  "Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of 
God  and  His  righteousness  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added 
unto  you,"  and,  "Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  ye  shall  find  rest." 

*  *   * 

We  Methodist  people  are  getting  there.  We  will  go  along 
and  keep  up  with  the  procession.  I  have  noticed  a  choir 
arrangement  something  like  this:  Organist  elected,  Mr.  Sam 
Stringey;    musical   manipulator,   Mr.    Toney   Dudds;    flute, 

148 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

violin  and  cornet  perfonners,  Peter  Snead,  Jenny  June,  Viola 
Snapp  and  Rosa  Snipe;  soloists,  Tiny  Popinjay  and  Delilah 
Canker.  There  you  have  music  that  will  beat  the  band,  and 
no  doubt  the  angels  will  rush  to  the  upper  parapets  to  listen 
to  the  sweet  strains.  "The  unkindest  cut  of  all"  is  that  some 
of  that  crowd,  as  published  accounts  and  names  do  confirm, 
will  dance  the  jig  and  german  till  daylight  on  wax  floors  to 
the  lazy  tune  of,  "After  the  Ball  is  Over,"     The  Lord  bear 

with  us. 

*  *  * 

"Lay  not  up  for  yourselves  treasures  upon  earth — for 
where  your  treasure  is,  there  will  your  heart  be  also."  The 
opposite  is  generally  what  men  strive  to  do.  Poor  mortal 
man  hugs  this  earth  with  all  his  heart  for  the  treasures  that 
are  in  it.  The  greed  for  gold  and  greenbacks  is  more  preva- 
lent than  perseverance  for  piety;  cash  and  coin  outweighs 
creed  and  character.  The  majority  of  men  are  not  in  earnest 
about  the  inestimable  birthright,  they  yearn  for  pots  of  pot- 
tage. The  rich  man  in  the  Scriptures  who  did  lay  up  treas- 
ures upon  earth,  and  was  preparing  to  enlarge  his  barns, 
said,  "Soul,  take  thine  ease."  Where  was  that  man's  soul? 
In  that  locality  where  dwells  all  the  soul  in  most  men — the 
bowels,  "All  the  labor  is  for  the  mouth,"  and  the  vanity  of 
this  world,  and  "money  answereth  all  things."  Great  words 
are  being  moneytized  and  language  leans  to  the  worldling's 
ideals.  Define  "worth,"  Suppose  I  were  to  ask  a  young 
merchant  ,  "dealing  in  sausage,  soap,  soda,  etc,  at  and  below 
cost,"  a  question  regarding  the  worth  of  James  H,  Carlisle, 
meeting  him  in  the  street, 

"Sir,  Mr.  Bacon,  can  you  tell  me  what  Dr.  Carlisle  is 
worth?" 

Bacon:  "No,  sir.  His  name  is  not  on  our  commercial 
books.  I  suppose  his  salary  supports  him.  I  hardly  think 
he  is  worth  much.  As  to  insurance,  I  don't  know  how  nmch 
he  carries." 

149 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"Prosperity,"  as  now  generally  used,  means  fat  pantries, 
well  furnished  homes,  profitable  trading,  bank  accounts,  etc. 
Were  you  to  ask  Mr.  Bacon,  meeting  him  in  the  street,  how 
prospers  his  soul,  it  would  scare  him. 

"Success,"  likewise  means  shekels. 

Fond  Mother:  "Our  son  (aged  eighteen)  is  doing  nicely 
now,  and  his  success  is  assured ;  he  is  getting  $75  a  month,  and 
he  is  dreadfully  saving." 

And  the  vain  creature  rejoices  over  that  "success"  and  the 
"dreadful  saving."  *  *  *  Laying  up  treasures  upon  earth, 
and  not  rich  towards  God — that's  the  prevailing  condition. 

When  he  dies,  the  man  of  "success,"  of  "worth,"  the  pros- 
perous man,  he  casts  one  long,  lingering  look  behind,  and  tri- 
umphs in  the  silence  of  death. 

"  'O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory .?' — I've  left  lands  and  pos- 
sessions with  titles  clear;  'O  death,  where  is  thy  sting .f" — I  am 
insured  for  fifty  thousand." 

The  body  lies  out  in  the  cemetery  and  the  tombstone  of 
beautiful  marble  tells  the  passerby  that,  "Here  lies  a  conse- 
crated Christian ;  blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord." 

Mercy  on  us,  what  lies  tombstones  sometimes  tell ! 

The  late  Dr.  Hashiell  was  fond  of  telling  the  following 
story  on  himself: 

Preaching  on  one  occasion  at  his  old  home,  an  old  colored 
man,  who  had  taken  care  of  him  when  he  was  a  child,  was 
delighted  with  the  sermon.  At  the  close  of  the  service  he  shook 
the  doctor  warmly  by  the  hand,  and  said:  "Larry,  you's  a 
good  preacher ;  you's  a  soundin'  brass  an'  tinklin'  cymbal.' 

*   *•   * 

Hon.  Ashbel  P.  Fitch,  formerly  comptroller  of  New  York, 
has  stated  that  while  he  was  comptroller  he  thoroughly  inves- 
tigated the  subject  of  baldness,  and  reached  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  an  index  of  intellect.     In  the  last  year  of  his  incum- 

150 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

bency,  among  other  things  in  connection  with  his  investiga- 
tion, his  curiosity  led  him  to  inquire  as  to  the  hair  of  the 
paupers  that  had  been  sent  to  the  county  poor  house.  "Out 
of  8,793  paupers  who  had  come  under  the  charge  of  the 
county  that  year,"  he  says,  "there  was  only  one  bald-headed 
man,  and  he  had  been  scalped  by  the  Indians." — Visitor. 

I  don't  know  that  to  be  true,  though  comforting  to  many 
of  the  brethren. 

*  *  * 

Patient:  "I'm  sorry  now  that  I  sent  for  you,  doctor,  be- 
cause I  feel  so  much  better  that  I  don't  need  any  medicine." 

Doctor:  "Better  take  some;  I'll  charge  you  just  the  same 
for  a  visit,  whether  you  do  or  not." — Sel. 


Carlyle  describes  a  dandy  as  a  "clothes-wearing  man— a 
man  whose  trade,  office  and  existence  consist  in  the  wearing  of 
clothes.  Every  faculty  of  his  soul,  spirit,  person  and  purse 
is  heroically  consecrated  to  this  one  object — the  wearing  of 
clothes  wisely  and  well;  so  that  as  others  dress  to  live,  he 
lives  to  dress."  One  sad  object  in  this  world  is  a  poverty- 
stricken  dandy  who  is  not  able  to  buy  the  clothes  to  wear,  but 
struts  and  swaggers  as  well  as  he  can  without  finery- — a  poor 

peacock  in  jeans. 

*  *-   * 

I  was  for  a  short  while  sometime  since  in  company  with  a 
man  who  is  somewhat  careless  in  speech  generally,  and  on  this 
occasion  he  let  slip  out  of  his  being  accidentally  and  without 
so-called  provocation,  a  word  of  profanity.  He  quickly  apolo- 
gized with  some  confusion,  which  indicated  that  he  had  uttered 
something  he  knew  to  be  wrong,  and  he  revealed  the  character 
of  speech  he  was  accustomed  to  use.  Swearing  comes  com- 
monly from  two  sources.  Sometimes  it's  a  hereditary  sin. 
The  boy  or  young  man  "cusses"  because  the  "ole  man"  does. 
Or  it  is  on  account  of  association.    Those  who  love  the  associa- 


151 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

tion  of  profane  people  will  become  profane.  Wherever  it 
comes  from  it's  a  simon-pure  case  of  depravity,  and  the  poor 
human  being  has  gone  very  far  from  original  righteousness 
when  he  profanes  the  name  of  his  Maker.  Profanity  is  a 
most  dangerous  form  of  depravity,  and  the  guilty  man  is  cap- 
able of  doing  any  sort  of  meanness. 

Dr.  Mark  Hopkins  says  that  a  man  who  "cusses"  will  tell  a 
lie.  I  will  quote  a  paragraph  or  two  from  him.  "This  is 
an  offence  that  would  excite  astonishment  if  it  were  not  so 
common.  The  thief,  the  sensualist,  the  ambitious  man  has 
temptation  which  appeals  to  a  natural  desire,  but  that  a  crea- 
ture and  child  of  God,  supported  wholly  by  His  goodness 
and  responsible  to  Him  should  wantonly  profane  His  name 
could  not  beforehand  be  credited. 

"Prof  aneness  can  be  of  no  possible  use  to  him  who  indulges 
in  it,  or  to  any  one  else.  If  it  were  not  wicked  it  would  be 
simply  superfluous  and  ridiculous.  It  is,  as  Robert  Hall  ?ays, 
in  allusion  to  feudal  times,  small  pepper  corn  sent  to  show 
that  a  man  belongs  to  the  devil.  All  observation  shows,  mine 
certainly  does,  what  might  have  been  inferred  without  it,  that 
he  who  will  swear  will  lie."  Whoever  may  be  guilty  of  it 
deserves  not  only  to  be  condemned  and  abhorred,  but  de- 
spised." 

^      *      0 

Johnson:  "Do  you  know  young  Jones.''" 
O'Kelly :  "Yis,  sor,  I  know  him." 
Johnson:  "Can  a  person  believe  what  he  says.'*" 
Pat:  "Faith,  an'  it's  jist  this  way:  "When  he  tells  ye  the 
truth,  ye  can  believe  every  word  he  says ;  but,  when  he  lies  to 
yez,  ye  better  have  no  confidence  in  him  at  all." — Sel. 

-*  *   * 

"Why  is  it?"  asked  a  man  of  a  negro  who  was  doing  some 
work  for  him,  "that  so  few  colored  men  commit  suicide.'"' 

"Well,  boss,"  was  the  reply,  "when  a  nigger  sets  down  to 
worry  he  bound  to  fall  asleep." — Sel. 

152 


This,  That  and  T'other. 

There  have  been  many  American  humorists,  good  and  bad, 
but  only  of  late  has  the  very  worst  one  been  discovered. 

"How's  Johnny?"  asked  one  of  the  neighbors. 

"Well,"  replied  Aunt  Ann  Peebles,  "he's  got  the  hives  this 
time.  When  he  was  a  baby  he  had  the  nettle-rash.  When  he 
got  over  that  he  was  troubled  with  a  breakin'  out  that  looked 
like  measles.  Then  he  had  a  ringworm  on  one  side  of  his  face. 
He  has  a  bile  every  spring,  and  once  in  a  while  he  gets  some- 
thin'  the  matter  with  his  hands  that  the  doctor  says  is  salt 
rheum." 

"He  must  have  some  kind  of  humor  in  his  blood." 

"Yes,"  said  Aunt  Ann,  shaking  her  head,  gloomily.  "He's 
the  worst  humorist  for  his  age  that  I  ever  see." — Sel. 


The  majority  of  our  homes  in  the  county  I  fear  are  with- 
out family  altars,  and  fathers  and  mothers  are  not  "used"  to 
prayer  and  to  read  their  Bibles  around  the  hearthstone. 

The  big  family  Bible  on  the  center  table  occupies  a  con- 
spicuous place  in  the  sitting  room  or  parlor,  but  the  probabil- 
ity is  the  Book  is  not  handled  much.  Looks  too  new  generally, 
and  not  thumb  worn.  I  found  a  home  once  without  a  Bible. 
We  were  about  to  have  family  service  and  I  asked  for  the 
book.  The  oldest  boy,  a  big  burly  young  man,  about  grown, 
with  more  grease  in  him  that  grace,  looked  around  for  a 
while,  on  the  tables,  under  the  tables,  on  the  beds,  and  I  think 
did  actually  look  into  the  cupboard  for  the  Bible,  but  it  was 
not  to  be  found.  Finally,  he  said:  "The  Testament  is  not 
here,  somebody  has  sure  borrowed  it."  We  had  prayer,  but 
I  always  believe  that  that  big,  burly  young  man  told  me  a 
big  one.  "He  that  provideth  not  for  his  own  has  denied  the 
faith,  and  is  worse  than  an  unbeliever."  Parents  need  not 
expect  their  children  to  be  pious  and  free,  even  from  immoral- 
ity, when  they  don't  show  piety  at  home. 


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The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"Let  us  not  forsake  the  assembling  of  ourselves  together  as 
the  manner  of  some  is."  Church  members  who  do  not  attend 
services  will  soon  get  oiF  the  religious  gear  and  lose  their 
religion,  if  they  have  any  to  start  with.  Piety  soon  becomes 
an  unknown  quantity,  and  the  preacher  more  or  less  a 
stranger  in  the  land.  But  some  people  are  providentially 
prevented  from  attending  church,  and  of  course  they  are  ex- 
cused. Bad  roads,  bad  weather,  bad  breeches,  unfashionable 
hats,  the  new  ones  not  having  arrived,  keep  people  away  some- 
times from  the  Sunday  services,  but  with  healthy  folks  they 
are  excuses  that  do  not  excuse.  I  have  found  out  this — the 
man  who  does  not  attend  church  when  he  can  will  be  guilty  of 
some  meanness  before  long.  Just  give  him  time  and  oppor- 
tunity and  some  sort  of  rascality  will  just  ooze  out. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

The  "CalV  to  Preach — Dependence  of  the  Methodist  Minis- 
try/— Punkeyton  Circuit — Rev.  Thos.  Trotter,  P.  C. — 
The  Officials — The  Stewards'  Meeting — The  Preacher's 
Expenses — Closing  Scene. 

I. 

The  call  to  preach,  the  vocation  of  a  Methodist  preacher, 
is  not  a  mere  hallucination.  It  is  not,  as  a  general  rule, 
undertaken  as  a  profession — the  result  of  a  choice.  Men  do 
not  elect  this  course  as  they  do  the  law,  medicine  and  other 
avocations.  There  are  exceptions,  I  do  believe — but  few. 
The  great  majority  of  Methodist  preachers  are  sincerely  and 
fully  persuaded  that  they  were  moved  by  the  Holy  Spirit  to 
preach  the  glorious  Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  forego  all 
trouble  and  trial,  and  make  all  the  sacrifices  necessarily  con- 
nected with  the  holy  and  arduous  work  of  the  sacred  ministry. 
In  early  life,  often  in  childhood  days,  there  comes  to  the  soul 

154 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

the  impression  to  preach  or  to  prepare  to  preach  the  Gospel. 
Later  on  this  impression  gains  ground,  and  the  young  Chris- 
tian concludes  that  he  ought  to  prepare  to  enter  the  ministry. 
If  this  wooing  of  the  Spirit,  this  persuasion,  is  resisted,  and 
frequently  it  is,  there  comes  over  the  soul  an  inward  conviction 
that  he  must  preach  if  the  way  is  open  and  circumstances  are 
favorable.  He  meditates  seriously  upon  the  striking  passage 
of  the  apostle :  'Woe  be  unto  me  if  I  preach  not  the  Gospel," 
and  the  fearful  probability  of  being  lost  at  last  if  he  heeds 
not  the  call  and  disobeys  the  heavenly  vision.  It  is  a  trying 
hour,  when  he  is  in  sore  need  of  the  voice  of  encouragement, 
and  a  strong,  brotherly,  helpful  hand — and  happy  is  he  when 
finall}'  he  submits,  takes  up  his  cross  and  begins  the  itinerant 
life.  The  young  man  "called  to  preach"  sometimes  makes  up 
his  mind  to  follow  some  other  profession,  keeping  the  sacred 
secret  within  his  own  bosom,  and  divulges  it  to  no  one.  He 
nurses  his  resolution,  maps  out  his  course  and  draws  up  his 
plans,  notwithstanding  "the  still,  small  voice."  But  after 
awhile — after  some  experience,  after,  it  may  be,  some  years  of 
trial  and  temptation — he  yields  at  last  to  that  continued  im- 
pression, that  he  ought  to  preach,  and  he  has  been  known  to 
give  up  all  earthly  hopes  and  ambitions  and  devote  himself, 
time  and  talent,  entirely  to  the  ministry  of  the  Word.  May 
be  it  was  the  profession  of  medicne  this  one  "called"  preferred 
and  did  put  his  hands  to  this  plow ;  but  ere  long  he  left  his 
laboratory,  and  possibly  a  world-renowned  reputation,  to  fol- 
low the  Mastor  in  the  humble  sphere  of  mountain  mission  or 
lowland  circuit,  preaching  the  Gospel.  Or  else,  as  it  is  not  in- 
frequently the  case,  another,  he  who  had  received  the  divine 
impression  to  preach,  chooses  law  and  begins  a  brilliant  career, 
but  in  course  of  time  he  yields  to  a  conscience  that  had  never 
ceased  to  uphold  him,  turns  his  back  upon  once  fond  associa- 
tion, his  office  and  emoluments,  and  begins  a  practice  in  a  more 
sacred  court  and  pleads  for  the  souls  of  fallen  humanity.  He 
can  of  course,  being  a  moral  free  agent,  resist  this  inward 

155 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

impression,  this  call  to  preach  and  follow  whatever  pursuit  or 
profession  he  may  elect,  but  the  conviction  is  not  effaced,  and 
it  is  a  long  time  before  continued  rebellion  hardens  the  con- 
science and  drives  the  Spirit  away.  The  result  of  disobedience 
to  the  heavenly  calling  of  the  self-willed  moral  free  agent,  as  it 
may  be  or  may  have  been  noted  in  living  witnesses,  is  that  it 
leaves  him  free  to  do  right,  but  more  than  ever  prone  to  do  evil, 
that  while  Christian  rectitude  can  be  attained,  and  the  more 
excellent  way  be  found,  there  really  will  be  in  him,  who  was 
called,  but  did  not  regard,  a  disposition  to  wander  away  from 
God,  and  a  fearful  tendenc}"^  to  be  borne  along  the  broad  way 
with  the  wild,  worldly  crowd  that  gravitate  to  ruin  and 
destruction.  When  there  is  real  consecration  and  ready 
acceptance  of  the  high  calling,  the  young  itinerant  is  initiated 
into  the  society  and  fellowship  of  as  faithful  a  body  of  men 
as  this  dear  old  earth  affords,  and  into  an  ecclesiastical  system 
which  for  aggressive  evangelistic  power  is  without  a  parallel 
in  all  the  religious  world.  If  the  Methodist  Church  fails  or 
falters  in  her  onward  march,  it  will  not  be  because  of  wanting 
in  a  divinely  ordered  arrangement  for  achievement  and  con- 
quest. The  world's  her  parish,  and  if  she  doesn't  eventually 
spread  from  pole  to  pole  by  her  untiring,  unique  and  united 
itineracy,  proving  the  greatest  blessing  to  the  people  every- 
where, she  will  have  forgotten  her  past  inspiring  history  and 
will  have  turned  aside  from  her  glorious  destiny. 

II. 

There  is  no  other  kind  of  evangelist,  or  denominational 
prophet,  that  appeals  more  to  the  liberality  of  a  people  for 
support  and  sustenance  than  the  Methodist  itinerant.  His 
pastorate,  like  his  avocation,  is  not  of  his  own  choosing.  He 
does  not  preach  trial  sermons  to  congregations  and,  if  elected 
preacher  in  charge,  agree  for  certain  stipulated  sum  in 
shekels  to  serve  them.  He  has  no  choice  in  the  business ; 
he  is  sent  to  preach  the  Gospel,  and  his  field  of  labor  is  an 

156 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

appointment  of  Providence  and  the  powers  ordained  of 
God.  He  calls  together,  when  the  appointment  has  been 
made  and  the  year's  work  has  begun,  his  Board  of  Stew- 
ards, to  consult  with  them  and  to  receive  meekly  any  appro- 
priation they  may  see  fit  to  bestow.  From  a  business  stand- 
point they  have  got  him  fast,  they  have  every  advantage ;  he 
is  entirely  dependent.  If  the  support  allowed  is  sufficient, 
the  preacher  will  be  encouraged;  if  short  rations  are  prom- 
ised, he  cannot  afford  to  show  discouragement — he  must 
accept  the  proposition  and  conform  to  the  situation.  The 
vows  are  upon  him  and  that  "Woe  be  unto  me  if  I  preach  not 
the  Gospel."  Whether  for  pounds  or  pennies,  he  must  go 
forward  in  the  great  work,  though  he  must  needs  bear  the 
burden  and  heat  of  the  day.  Oh,  these  Boards  of  Stewards ! 
What  a  power  in  Methodism !  In  this  wide  field  of  Christian 
soldiery  they  hold  the  keys  of  the  commissary  department  and 
the  revenues  of  the  kingdom.  They  have  the  ability  and  priv- 
ilege to  feed  and  the  means  to  clothe  the  prophets  who  are 
sent  unto  them.  They  have  at  their  disposal  grub  and 
greenbacks,  and  that's  what  keeps  the  world  on  a  move.  The 
Church's  great  ecclesiastical  system  would  degenerate  and 
perish  were  it  not  for  the  faithful  men  of  God  who  serve  the 
tables,  and  until  the  ministry  becomes  so  that  it  can  easily 
subsist  on  air  and  water  alone,  we  must  ever,  in  grateful  sub- 
mission, bow  to  the  supremacy  of  laymen's  rights  in  carnal 
things. 

But  there  are  some  pastoral  charges  where  the  people  and 
Church  officials  are  not  dominated  by  the  spirit  of  liberality 
and  progressiveness,  and  they  keep  the  pastor  in  such  a  state 
of  continued  want  and  carking  care  as  all  but  freeze  the  genial 
current  of  his  soul. 

III. 

The  following  story  of  Punkeyton  Circuit  is  not  an 
unusual  history,  and  the  experience  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Trot- 
ter will   touch   a   sympathetic   chord   in   kindred  hearts   who 

157 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

have  been  along  the  same  way.  The  characters  of  the 
stewards  portrayed  have  their  prototype  in  hving  mortals 
moving  around  in  this  good  land  today.  Sister  Huckster 
lives  free  from  pain  and  care,  somewhere — and  all  contain  far 
more  fact  than  fiction.  The  Punkeyton  Circuit  is  situated 
away  back  in  a  retired  part  of  the  Lord's  vineyard,  far  from 
the  "maddening  crowd's  ignoble  strife."  The  good  people 
of  that  prosperous  land  have  been  pursuing  the  even  tenor  of 
their  ways  for  many  years,  well  known  for  excellent  house- 
keepers, good  cooks,  big  old-time  meetings  in  midsummer  and 
many  dear  old  folks  who  occasionally  "shout"  during 
religious  services  over  the  old-time  religion.  Punkeyton  is  a 
small  collection  of  houses  and  inhabitants,  beautiful  for  situa- 
tion. There  are  no  shops,  no  railroad,  and,  I  am  informed  by 
the  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  village,  that  it  is  about  as  large 
now  as  it  was  fifty  years  ago,  when  its  corporate  lines  were 
surveyed  and  the  boundaries  became  a  fixed  fact.  Among  the 
important  residences  and  business  places  I  might  mention 
that  the  parsonage  home  is  there.  The  manse,  built  many 
years  ago,  holds  its  own  within  the  corporate  limits.  The 
postoffice,  kept  in  an  old  rickety  building,  is  presided  over  by 
a  fat,  red  face  man,  Mr.  John  Snapper,  whose  politics  have 
always  been  in  a  state  of  uncertainty,  and  whose  piety  has 
been  equally  as  unreliable.  Dr.  Sankey  Mustard  is  the  prac- 
ticing physician  of  the  little  town,  and  lives  conveniently  to 
the  parsonage  and  the  cemetery.  Mr.  Jerry  Heckley,  the 
principal  merchant,  owns  a  large  store  of  dry  goods  and 
groceries,  and  Peter  Snarer,  a  notary  public  and  farmer,  lives 
in  a  cozy  home,  also  near  the  manse.  The  parsonage  has 
never  been  quite  finished.  There  are  no  blinds  for  the  windows 
of  the  second  story,  and  it  will  take  two  or  three  more  ice 
cream  entertainments  to  realize  a  sufficient  sum  to  supply  the 
parsonage  with  curtains  for  the  windows,  chairs  and  other 
needed  furniture.  The  parsonage  furnishing,  upholstering 
and  repairing  generally,  is  a  slow,  patient  work  of  years, 

158 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

and  it  was  so  with  the  manse  of  the  Punkeyton  Circuit.  Tlie 
Rev.  Thomas  Trotter,  the  preacher  in  charge,  had  announced 
a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Stewards  at  all  of  his  ai)point- 
ments  the  first  round  after  Conference,  and  that  all-im- 
portant day,  Wednesday  after  the  third  Sunday  in  January, 
had  arrived.  During  a  grave  consultation,  held  by  the  elder 
Trotters  in  the  back  porch  on  the  probable  events  and  out- 
come of  the  day,  little  Lila  May,  the  oldest  girl,  a  bright, 
bouncing  lass  of  fourteen  summers,  came  upon  the  scene  with 
a  hop,  skip  and  jump,  and  declared,  excitedly,  that,  "Papa 
must  buy  her  a  piano,  her  music  teacher  said  she  was  execut- 
ing beautifully  now,  and  just  must  have  one.  Nina  Huckster 
and  Minnie  Quartz  each  had  one,  and  Sarah  Tinhorn's  papa 
had  ordered  Sarah  a  pretty  upright  piano  just  the  other 
day.  Now,  papa,  if  the  stewards  give  you  a  heap  of  money 
today,  wont'  you  buy  your  Lila  May  a  piano,  too.^*  You  can 
buy  it  on  the  installment  plan  in  such  an  easy  way  that  you 
can't  feel  it.  Now,  won't  you.''"  The  father  replied  that  he 
"would  see  about  it,"  and  Lila  May  grew  more  affectionate, 
kissed  papa,  and  hurried  off  to  school.  She  felt  encouraged, 
because  whenever  her  papa  said  he  would  "see  about  it," 
whether  concerning  the  purchase  of  a  new  dress  or  a  big  doll, 
the  articles  would  ere  long  be  forthcoming — and  she  thought 
of  the  new  piano  all  the  day  long. 

The  brave  little  woman  of  the  parsonage,  anxious  to  make 
it  as  pleasant  and  happy  occasion  as  it  was  possible  for  her  to 
do  so,  began  operations  early  in  the  morning,  making  prep- 
arations for  the  dinner,  for  all  the  stewards,  as  it  is  custom- 
ary, were  to  dine  with  the  preacher  in  charge.  She  was 
cumbered  with  much  serving.  There  were  not  sufficient 
dishes,  and  she  had  to  borrow  of  Mrs.  Tabitha  Mustard,  the 
doctor's  wife,  a  few  more  plates;  cups  and  saucers  were 
needed,  and  two  large  boatlike  dishes  it  was  necessary  to  bor- 
row to  hold  the  boiled  ham  and  roast.  Mrs.  Jerry  Heckley, 
the  merchant's  wife,  was   kind  enough  to   lend  bright   new 

159 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

table  linen  on  which  to  place  the  stewards'  dinner,  and  from 
Mr.  Peter  Snarer,  who 'had  only  two  heirs  and  a  very  large 
dwelling,  were  transferred  some  comfortable  chairs  and  easy 
rockers  with  which  to  seat  the  expected  guests  during  their 
stay  and  deliberations.  Ere  long  the  industrious  Mrs.  Trot- 
ter had  everything  in  ship-shape,  and  soon  a  most  appetizing 
dinner  of  a  varied  and  tasteful  assortment  was  simmering, 
stewing,  browning  and  baking,  and  by  11  o'clock  all  were  well 
under  way  in  pot,  pan  and  oven. 

The  stewards  arrived  irregularly,  hitched  their  fat  horses  in 
the  parsonage  yard,  formed  in  little  groups,  momentarily  in 
the  bright  sunshine  of  a  pleasant  winter's  day,  and  discussed  in 
a  desultory  sort  of  way  the  price  of  cotton,  and  other  things, 
and  the  occasion  that  had  brought  them  together.  One  or 
two  were  in  favor,  one  especially,  Toney  Railey,  of  raising  the 
salary  of  the  preacher  in  charge,  and  had  talked  it  about. 
He  represented  Salem  church,  and  said  Salem  was  willing  and 
ready  to  pay  her  proportionate  part,  or  more  if  necessary,  in 
order  to  get  the  charge  to  raise  the  salary.  The  churches 
were  all  fairly  represented,  on  an  average  of  about  two  from 
each  of  the  four  churches  composing  the  circuit.  John  Peter 
Ruckster  was  chairman  of  the  board,  and  a  leading  spirit. 
He  represented  Pisgah.  He  was  familiarly  called  simply 
"J.  P."  Everybody  knew  "J.  P."— many  liked  "J.  P.,"  and 
not  a  few  of  the  poorer  people  were  dependent  largely  upon 
the  favor  of  "J.  P."  He  was  a  big  country  merchant  as 
well  as  farmer,  and  was  indulgent  to  some  who  could  not  pay 
cash  for  dry  goods  and  groceries  during  the  hard  months 
between  March  and  October.  He  was  rather  a  nervous  gen- 
tleman, "J.  P."  was,  quick  in  movement,  and  had  such  a  posi- 
tive way  of  making  assertions  as  precluded  all  further  argu- 
ment or  opinion  to  the  contrary.  He  was  generally  the  first 
man  in  the  circuit  the  new  preacher  consulted,  or  was  con- 
strained to  consult,  when  he  arrived  in  Punkeyton,  and 
"J.  P."  was  always  ready  and  willing  to  inform  who  is  who, 

160 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

and  what's  what.  The  phrenological  and  physiognomical 
makeup  of  "J.  P."  was  much  against  him  in  the  estimation  of 
an  observer  of  ordinary  insight.  He  possessed  a  large  red 
face,  and  small  head,  with  rather  low  receding  forciiead. 
He  had  a  small,  short  chin,  high  cheekbones,  eyes  very 
near  together,  which  would  entirely  close  when  he  laughed. 
In  the  midst  of  the  big  red,  fat  face  there  was  a  nose  of 
not  unusual  dimensions,  neither  aquiline  nor  Roman,  but  was 
somewhat  blunt  and  inclined  to  turn  up.  The  fat  cheeks 
seemed  disposed  to  push  out  that  important  member  and  make 
it  more  conspicuous.  "J.  P."  was  neither  vicious,  nor  virtu- 
ous, as  a  general  rule.  If  it  required  a  questionable  action  in 
a  business  transaction  to  accomplish  something  for  Huckster, 
he'd  have  no  scruples  in  doing  it.  If  a  virtuous  action  would 
add  to  "J.  P's."  popularity,  or  increase  his  trade,  he  would 
have  no  hesitation  in  doing  a  virtuous  action,  provided,  it  didn't 
cost  too  much.  He  followed  the  dictates  of  his  consicence,  and 
often  that  happy  disposition  caused  his  peace  to  flow  as  a  river. 
When  "J.  P."  made  a  bad  bargain  and  got  "bit,"  he  would 
have  compunction  of  conscience  and  would  enjoy  no  rest  for  a 
season.  When  it  was  the  other  fellow's  hard  luck  and  "J. 
P's."  good  fortune,  then  would  the  latter's  conscience  have  its 
own  sweet  way.  Bill  Spotts,  of  Zion,  had  much  flesh,  being 
heavily  built,  with  a  fearful  tendency  to  a  lazy  state  of 
obesity.  Intellectually,  he  was  dull  and  drearj"^,  and  as  he 
increased  in  fatness,  there  was  an  apparent  decrease  in  men- 
tality. He  was  a  man  of  no  convictions  as  to  religious  duty 
and  his  opinions  and  activities,  if  Bill  had  anything  in  him 
you  might  call  Christian  activity,  with  reference  to  the 
Church  and  its  work,  were  formed  and  fashioned  by  the  influ- 
ence of  Huckster  and  others.  During  service  at  Zion  on  any 
spring  or  summer  Sabbath  morning,  he  would  almost  invari- 
ably fall  fast  asleep,  but  would  wake  up  promptly  when  the 
Doxology  was  being  sung,  and  after  the  benediction  was  pro- 
nounced he  would   often  very  cordially   invite   the  preacher 

161 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

home  with  him  for  dinner.  Spotts  was  a  very  prosperous 
fanner  and  lumberman,  and  had  hoarded  many  hundreds, 
which  he  prized  most  highly.  While  Spotts  possessed  a  few 
commendable  characteristics,  it  was  apparent  that  he  was  too 
fat  and  flourishing  physically  to  be  continuously  a  seeker  of 
the  Lord,  and  too  prosperous  to  be  genuinely  pious. 

Zedekiah  Tinhorn,  another  steward  from  Zion,  possessed 
an  excitable,  nervous  temperament.  He  had  been  troubled 
for  years  with  dyspepsia,  and  it  produced  a  marked  eff'ect 
upon  his  physical  frame,  which  was  ver}'^  weak  and  lank,  and 
doubtless  it  was  that  annoying  bodily  ailment  which  had  much 
to  do  with  the  springs  of  his  character.  Possessing  tender 
sensibilities,  he  has  been  known  to  shed  tears  over  pulpit  ora- 
torical pictures  of  distress  and  affliction,  and  on  a  love-feast 
occasion  during  a  big  midsummer  revival  meeting.  Zed,  if  in 
good  trim,  would  tell  his  experience  in  an  affecting,  tremulous 
way,  and  would  shed  tears  over  past  faults  and  follies — and 
the  pardoning  love.  There  were  some  good  points  in  Zed's 
dyspeptic  soul,  and  some  not  so  good.  He  was  moody,  fickle, 
unreliable — displayed  much  zeal  for  the  Church  at  times,  and 
at  other  times  he  would  become  lukewarm  and  very  indifferent. 
It  is  said  that  he  was  very  much  like  his  father,  who  died  be- 
fore Trotter  came  to  the  Punkeyton  Circuit.  The  old  man  did 
not  attend  church  for  a  long  time  before  he  died,  although  he 
had  been  an  active  member  many  years.  They  brought  an 
organ  in  the  church  against  his  will,  he  became  offended  and 
would  not  attend  any  service  there  whatever.  He  was  buried 
in  the  old  cemetery  of  Zion  church,  and  heavenly  words  about 
"fidelity"  and  the  "crown  of  righteousness"  were  deeply 
inscribed  upon  the  polished  marble  erected  to  perpetuate  his 
memory,  but  many  good  people  who  knew  him  well  were  in 
doubt  as  to  his  Christian  fidelity  and  very  uncertain  as  to  the 
crown  of  righteousness  the  tombstone  said  he  would  wear. 
Like  many  other  Scriptural  truths  inscribed  on  graveyard 
marble  these  days,  they  were  written  and  put  there  more  to 

162 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

gratify  the  wishes  and  soothe  the  spirits  of  the  living  tlian  to 
portray  the  real  character  and  well-grounded  hope  of  the  soul 
whose  dust  and  bones  reposed  beneath  the  monumental  slab. 
Sims  Starkey,  of  Pisgah,  was  another  steward  whose  char- 
acteristics fonn  a  profitable  study.  He  was  a  brother-in-law 
of  Huckster.  He  married  "J.  P's."  sister,  and  was  only  a 
year  his  wife's  senior,  who  was  now  in  her  forty-seventh  year. 
Sims  Starkey  was  a  peculiar  man — a  peculiarly  quiet  man — 
and  always  bore  a  heavy  countenance  and  a  grave  face.  All 
sense  of  humor  seems  to  have  taken  wings  and  left  him  for- 
ever. He  was  never  known  to  laugh  heartily,  and  rarely 
ever  progressed  in  risibles  beyond  a  faint,  quiet  smile.  His 
movements  were  slow,  and  he  was  never  seen  in  a  hurry.  He 
would  stand  at  a  public  gathering,  political  meeting  and  other 
places  alone,  often  like  a  statue,  summer  or  winter,  with  his 
two  big  hands  down  to  the  bottom  of  his  pants'  pockets.  But 
Sims  Starkey  was  an  industrious,  good  fellow,  and  everybody 
in  the  community  liked  him.  If  a  neighbor  experienced  a 
misfortune  of  any  kind,  such  as  the  loss  of  a  barn  by  fire, 
Sims  would  come  to  his  assistance.  If  a  poor  widow  needed 
her  garden  ploughed,  or  potato  patch  "broke  up,"  Sims 
would  be  the  man  to  do  the  work,  or  have  it  done.  Sims  was 
kind  to  his  preacher  and  sometimes  would  give  him  a  load  of 
oats  after  the  harvesting,  or  a  one-horse  load  of  corn  at  the 
gathering  time — all  a  free  gift,  not  to  be  reported  as  "script" 
at  the  ensuing  Quarterly  Conference.  Sims  was  fondly 
attached  to  his  church,  Pisgah,  and  would  attend,  without 
being  requested,  to  the  care  and  keeping  of  the  yard  and 
cemetery,  and  when  there  was  to  be  a  burial,  Sims  was  gen- 
erally called  upon  to  look  after  the  grave  digging — which  he 
always  did  well  and  superintended  the  melancholy  work  with 
becoming  solemnity  of  manner.  But  in  all  kind  actions  and 
deeds  of  charity,  as  above  enumerated,  when  Sims  was  called 
upon,  it  was  obsei-ved  that  he,  while  entertaining  the  question 
or  appeal  sympathetically,  would  invariably  give  an  evasive 

163 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

answer  would  say,  "I'll  let  you  know  tomorrow,"  or  "as 
soon  as  I  go  home  and  see  what's  to  be  done  there."  The 
neighbors  soon  learned  "what  was  to  be  done  there."  It  was 
to  consult  Mrs.  Sophronia  Malinda  Starkey.  Sims  dared  not 
undertake  to  do  anytliing  of  importance  without  first  consult- 
ing her.  She  was  as  kind  to  liim  as  one  need  be  when  Sims 
was  observant  of  her  wishes  and  obedient  to  her  will — but 
was  quite  severe  on  him  when  he  crossed  her  purposes,  and 
seemed  inclined  to  have  his  own  way.  Therefore,  if  the  widow 
in  need  was  on  good  terms  with  Mrs.  Starkey,  the  garden 
would  be  ploughed;  if  the  deceased  had  been  friendly  with 
Mrs.  Starkey,  the  grave  digging  by  Sims  would  be  attended 
to.  If  Sister  Starkey  and  the  preacher  in  charge  were  on 
congenial  and  pleasant  terms,  Sims  would  visit  the  parsonage 
barn  lot  with  his  load  of  com  or  oats,  but  if  "she  didn't  take 
a  likening  to  the  preacher,"  the  preacher  would  go  without 
Sims'  corn  and  forage.  Poor  Sims  Starkey  was  beyond  doubt 
in  the  fearful  bondage  of  apron  and  skirt,  and  was  under 
strictest  form  and  surveillance  of  petticoat  government.  Mrs. 
Starkey  was  a  determined  woman,  strong,  hearty  and  in 
perfect  health  ^t  forty-seven.  She  was  much  of  a  woman. 
She'd  bustle  in  and  bustle  about,  and  would  lead  in  any  Church 
work  and  do  more  for  any  Church  society  enterprise  than  any 
other  female  member  if  she  were  permitted  to  have  her  own 
way.  She  resembled  strikingly  her  brother,  J.  P.  Huckster, 
in  mind  and  manner,  but  was  more  resolute  and  had  far  more 
temper.  It  is  said  that  Sims  one  day  when  the  oldest  boy  was 
four  years  old,  with  the  laudable  view  of  bringing  him  up  in 
the  way  he  should  go,  undertook  to  spank  him,  and  that  at  a 
psychological  moment  Mrs.  Starkey  appeared  on  the  scene 
and  interfered  in  such  a  resolute  way  that  Sims  gave  up  the 
job,  and  never  undertook  another  of  the  same  kind.  Mrs. 
Starkey  was  chairman  of  the  Parsonage  Furnishing  Society 
of  Punkeyton  Circuit,  kept  an  inventory  of  all  the  things 
belonging  to  the  manse,  and  it  was  a  happy  occasion  to  her 

164 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

when  the  society  convened,  as  she  was  ahvays  full  of  chat,  and 
sociable.  "She'd  thank  the  Lawd,  her  youngest,  Sims 
Sparkey,  Jr.,  was  five  years  old,  that  she  was  through  with 
cradle  rocking,  and  was  going  to  enjoy  life — that  she  was." 
She  would  visit  the  parsonage  on  an  inspecting  tour  some- 
times, examine  this,  peer  into  that  and  bustle  in  and  bustle 
about,  and  would  insinuate  that  some  wives  were  not  as  care- 
ful and  economical  as  they  should  be.  One  day  during  one 
of  these  inspecting  tours  at  the  Punkeyton  parsonage  the  little 
boy  of  the  house,  chasing  a  playful  kitten,  accidentally  fell 
across  a  bed,  disarranging  quilts  and  pillows.  This  attracted 
the  inspectress,  who  calmly  remarked  that  the  parsonage  beds 
were  not  placed  there  by  the  society  for  little  boys  to  play  on. 
I  got  this  straight  from  Mrs.  Thomas  Trotter,  who,  until  her 
last  "lab'ring  breath"  will  not  forget  Mrs.  Sophronia 
Malinda  Starkey. 

Ezekiel  Swartz,  who  represented  Bethel  church,  was  a  well- 
to-do  farmer,  indeed,  comparatively  speaking,  he  might  be 
said  to  be  rich.  Besides  a  large  estate  of  five  thousand  acres, 
he  owned  a  great  deal  of  machinery,  two  ginneries,  and 
enjoyed  a  clear  income,  in  dollars,  of  three  thousand  or  more. 
He  began  his  career,  a  poor  boy,  before  the  war,  had  a  lung 
trouble,  or  heart  failure,  or  some  chronic  complaint  all  along 
during  that  terrible  catastrophe,  all  of  which  of  course 
exempted  him  from  service  as  a  Confederate  soldier.  He 
rallied  so  effectually  after  the  bloody  and  cruel  contest  was 
over,  that  he  was  enabled  to  prosecute  his  life  work  diligently 
and  began  to  buy  land  and  increase  his  worldly  possessions. 
Uncle  Zeke,  as  he  was  familiarly  called,  was  always  fond  of 
telling  others  how  earnestly  he  toiled  in  his  earl}'^  manhood 
days,  and  on  what  strict  principles  of  economy  he  lived.  In 
early  life  he  lived  on  "hard  tack,"  he  and  wife,  that  they 
might  put  by  a  snug  sum  for  a  rainy  day.  "A  dollar  saved 
is  a  dollar  made"  was  his  motto.  He  has  been  known,  even 
since  he  became  independent  and  dwelt  in  a  palatial  country 

165 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

home,  to  follow  behind  the  cotton  wagons  on  the  way  to  the 
ginnery  and  pick  up  every  little  lock  of  cotton  that  might 
have  been  jostled  out.  He  did  deny  himself  and  took  up  his 
carnal  cross,  forgetting  the  things  of  the  past  and  reaching 
for  the  possessions  in  this  world.  He  pressed  toward  the 
mark  and  got  there,  and  now,  in  his  old  age,  he  could  say, 
"Soul,  take  thine  ease,  thou  hast  much  goods  laid  up  for 
many  years."  Though  he  may  not  have  been  conscious  of  it, 
"Uncle"  Zeke  had  the  highest  estimate  of  his  opinions,  his 
judgment  concerning  men  and  measures,  and  even  of  his 
religious  qualifications.  Along  with  that  mental  and  spirit- 
ual attitude  he  had  a  poor  opinion  generally  of  the  mental  and 
moral  attainments  of  most  other  mortals.  Very  few  people 
won  from  him  a  complimentary  remark,  very  few  actions  of 
others  would  he  commend.  He  was  just  built  that  way — 
Uncle  Zeke  was — naturally  censorious  and  egotistical,  with  an 
alarming  amount  of  bigotry. 

Berry  Whetstone,  the  other  steward  from  Bethel,  was  a 
busy-bee  man — a  man  with  two  or  three  irons  in  the  fire  at  one 
time  and  dexterously  managed  all  tolerably  well.  All  the 
time  at  it,  and  hard  at  it,  strong  physically,  and  muscular, 
intellectually  not  so  deep  nor  brilliant,  but  his  mind  was  fairly 
clear  and  sound  as  far  as  it  went.  He  enjoyed  far  more  sur- 
veying a  twenty-acre  field  and  forest  at  $3  a  day  than  think- 
ing with  Carlyle  or  dreaming  with  Milton.  He  was  a  school 
teacher,  and  a  good  one,  a  farmer,  a  sui'veyor,  a  notary  pub- 
lic, a  trustee,  a  Sunday  school  teacher  and  a  steward.  If 
anything  had  to  be  done  at  Bethel  with  reference  to  Church 
work,  graveyard  work  or  building  or  repairing.  Whetstone 
was  always  placed  on  the  committee  to  guarantee  prompt 
execution.  Whetstone  did  not  overflow  with  sentiment,  and  his 
soul  was  barren  of  song.  His  sympathetic  nature  did  not 
stretch  over  a  large  field,  and  he  was  hardly  capable  of  deep 
devotional  feeling — but  a  loyal,  true  member  and  steward  was 

166 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

Berry,   cand  Punkeyton   Circuit  could  not   have  spared   him 
without  sustaining  a  perceptible  loss. 

Toney  Railey,  of  Salem,  was  a  man  of  commendable  parts. 
He  was  not  the  success  in  the  business  world  that  Swartz  and 
Ruckster  were,  or  even  that  attained  by  Billy  Spotts,  but  in 
manners  and  morals  he  was  their  superior.  Toney  was 
refined  in  taste,  and  showed  the  mai'ks  everywhere,  in  all  rela- 
tions, of  genuine  good  breeding.  He  was  deferential  to  the 
opinions  and  wishes  of  others,  and  while  not  at  all  demonstra- 
tive or  pretentious,  he  exemplified  likely  more  Christian  virtue 
and  culture  than  any  other  man  on  the  board.  The  only 
thing  against  Toney  was  he  was  a  bachelor  of  some  years' 
standing.  His  home  was  without  the  song  and  sunshine  of  a 
good  wife.  It  is  said  that  he  was  engaged  once  to  a  pretty 
young  lady,  that  on  the  eve  of  the  anticipated  happy  mar- 
riage she  went  back  on  him  and  he  never  loved  again. 

IV. 

At  about  10  A.  M.,  all  the  stewards  present,  representing 
the  four  churches  of  the  Punkeyton  Circuit,  assembled  in  the 
parsonage,  and  warm  and  cordial  was  the  greeting  and  sincere 
was  the  welcome  by  the  pastor.  He  had  a  warai,  fraternal 
grasp  and  a  kind  word  for  one  and  all.  "Howdy,  howdy-do, 
brethren.  Glad  indeed  to  meet  you  this  morning.  Bro. 
Ruckster,  walk  in,  sir.  I  hope  you  keep  well,  and  Bro.  Spotts, 
come.  Bro.  Tinhorn,  you're  welcome;  sorry  to  learn  of  Sister 
Tinhorn's  indisposition — and  Bro.  Swartz,  how  are  you. 
Regret  to  learn  you  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  lose  your  fine 
Jersew  cow  the  other  day."  "Yes,  sir,"  replied  Swartz,  "that 
was  a  fine  cow.  Cost  me  $30,  besides  the  expense  of  feeding 
her  since  I  got  her — a  clear  loss,  sir."  "Sorry,  sir,"  con- 
tinues the  pastor ;  "and  Bro.  Whetstone,  pleased  to  greet  you 
— Avas  afraid  you  would  not  come,  you  live  so  far — and  Bro. 
Toney,  glad  indeed  to  see  you.  You  bring  up  the  rear — walk 
in — all  walk  in." 

167 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

After  prayer  by  the  pastor,  the  organization  was  soon  per- 
fected by  electing  J.  P.  Huckster,  chairman,  and  Toney 
Railey,  secretary,  and  the  Board  of  Stewards  of  the  Punkey- 
ton  Circuit  was  ready  for  the  business  of  providing  for  the 
support  of  the  person  and  family  of  Rev.  Thomas  Trotter 
for  the  ensuing  year.  The  preacher  in  charge  made  a  mod- 
est, interesting  statement  concerning  the  work,  and  how  glad 
he  was  to  be  with  them  again.  His  labor  among  them  had 
been  a  work  of  pleasure — a  labor  of  love.  He  was  thankful 
that  the  business  of  the  charge  closed  so  well  last  year,  every- 
thing having  been  paid  in  full,  and  that  the  circuit  had  made 
so  propitious  a  beginning  this  new  year.  He  congratulated 
them  upon  the  general  material  prosperity  of  the  country  and 
community — which  should  be  a  source  of  devout  thanksgiving 
to  God,  the  Giver  of  every  good  and  perfect  gift,  whose 
goodness  had  been  so  wonderfully  displayed.  He  thanked 
his  stewards  for  what  they  had  done  in  the  past  and  of  course 
would  not  be  unappreciative  of  future  favors.  He  implored 
divine  blessings  upon  them  and  their  deliberations. 

The  Chairman :  "Now,  gentlemen,  let  us  come  right  down  to 
brass  tacks,  and  say  what  the  assessment  shall  be  for  the  sup- 
port this  year.  Speak  out  your  minds.  Let  everything  be 
done  squarely  and  fairly.  The  assessment  last  year  was 
$650,  and  we  all  know  it  was  a  long  pull,  and  a  pull  altogether 
to  get  that  amount,  but  we  did,  and  I'm  glad  our  preacher 
reported  a  clean  sheet  at  Conference — so  I  am.  Come,  speak 
out.  I  'spect  it  would  be  better  for  our  pastor  to  retire  a 
short  while,  that  we  might  all  speak  out  without  embarrass- 
ment."     (Trotter  retires.) 

Berry  Whetstone:  "Mr.  Chairman:  As  our  pastor  has  just 
said,  we  have  had  two  or  more  years  of  unusual  prosperity  in 
the  Punkeyton  Circuit  and  community.  This  last  year  I  am 
satisfied  that  in  this  part  of  the  county  50  per  cent,  more 
cash  was  in  circulation  among  the  people  than  there  was  five 
years   ago.     The  Punkeyton   Circuit   then   paid  the  pastor 

168 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

$650,  and  as  I  believe  we  are  abundantly  able  to  do  so,  I 
move,  sir,  that  the  assessment  be  raised  to  $800,  each  church 
to  pay  its  proportionate  part  in  the  same  way  we  assessed 
and  collected  the  $650." 

Toney  Railey:  "I  second  the  motion  of  Bro.  Whetstone. 
The  time  for  Punkeyton  Circuit  to  do  something  has  arrived. 
Let  us  go  forward,  or  we  might  go  backward.  Other  charges 
in  the  district  have  gone  up  on  salaries,  and  our  circuit  is 
able  to  do  so.  I  know,  too,  that  $650  is  not  sufficient  to  sup- 
port a  preacher  with  eight  in  family.  Last  year  Bro.  Trotter 
was  not  able  to  pay  all  his  grocery  and  dry  goods  accounts, 
and  only  recently  I  endorsed  a  note  for  Bro.  Trotter,  and 
endorsed  it  willingly,  for  $50,  to  furnish  liim  money  to  pay 
parties  who  were  pressing  him.  We  have  a  good  preacher, 
brethren,  let  us  hold  up  his  hands  and  enable  him  to  live  and 
preach  and  attend  to  God's  business  without  worry  and  with- 
out being  troubled  about  matters  of  bread,  meat  and 
clothing." 

Then  followed  a  momentary  pause  and  some  quiet  general 
talk  among  the  stewards.  The  motion  and  the  short,  earnest 
speeches  in  favor  of  it  >vere  a  surprise.  "J.  P."  seemed  nerv- 
ous. "Come  to  order,  now,"  said  he ;  "let  us  proceed.  Speak 
out  your  minds." 

Uncle  Zeke  Swartz  and  Tinhorn  both  arose  about  the  same 
time  to  address  the  chair,  but  Swartz  was  recognized. 

Swartz:  "I  just  want  ter  ax  one  question,  does  yer  want 
ter  make  the  preacher  rich  ?  Does  yer  want  to  put  purple  on 
him  that  he  may  live  persumptuously  every  day  ?  Now,  I  ax 
yer,  where's  the  reason  of  it.?  Six  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
is  the  same  as  fourteen  heavy  bales  of  cotton  without  a  cent 
of  expense  and  no  fertilizers  to  pay  for.  I  believe  I  could  do 
on  $400  myself  and  have  a  leetle  at  the  end  of  the  year." 

Tinhorn  (interrupting)  :  "I  know  I  could  do  on  $300  a 
year." 

Chair:  "One  at  a  time,  brethren,  one  at  a  time." 

169 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Swartz:  "Where's  the  reason  of  it  I  say?  A  man  that's 
to  hve  right  in  this  here  world  must  be  saving — save  every 
scrap,  every  lock  of  cotton.  That's  the  way  I  got  my  start. 
We  have  got  a  good  home  here  for  the  preacher  to  live  in,  free 
of  rent.  The  Parsonage  Aid  Sassity  keeps  the  house  well 
furnished,  as  good  as  mine  or  yorn,  as  yer  all  see — and  if  yer 
think  our  pastor  and  family  air  starvin'  yer  just  wait  till  we 
go  to  dinner.  Where's  the  reason  of  it,  I  say?  Then,  again, 
there  air  three  acres  of  as  good  a  land  around  this  parsonage 
as  yer  will  find  in  this  whole  district — and  if  the  preacher  is 
mind  ter  use  these  here  (exhibiting  and  stretching  out  two 
big,  red  scaly  hands,  the  fingers  curved  nearly  to  the  palms) 
— if  he's  a  mind  ter  work,  I  say,  he  can  make  three  bales  of 
cotton  on  that  patch.  That's  the  way  I  made  my  start.  I 
move  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  motion  that  we've 
heard,  and  make  the  salary  what  it  was  last  year.  Take  care 
what  yer  air  doing.  If  you  make  it  $800  this  year,  another 
preacher  will  come  along  next  year,  mebbe,  with  a  larger 
family  than  Bro.  Trotter's — for  Methodist  preachers  air  get- 
ting famous  of  late  for  large  families — and  he  will  want 
more — •" 

Whetstone  (interrupting)  :  "How  many  children  have  you, 
Uncle  Zeke?" 

Swartz :  "That's  no  matter — I've  got  ten,  it's  true,  but 
they  don't  haveto  'pend  on  charity  for  a  Uvin\" 

Chair:  "You  move,  Bro.  Swartz,  do  you,  to  lay  the  motion 
on  the  table?" 

Swartz:  "Yes,  sir,  and  let  it  stay  there." 

Tinhorn:  "I  second  that  motion  with  all  my  heart." 

Spotts :  "Me,  too." 

The  motion  was  put,  and  was  carried,  Swartz,  Tinhorn, 
Spotts  and  Starkey  voting  for  it ;  Whetstone  and  Raile}-^  vot- 
ing against.  The  salary  was  soon  fixed — same  as  the  jj^ear 
before,  $650,  with  a  few  remarks  to  the  eff'ect  that  if  any 
amount  was  collected  in  excess  it  should  be  handed  over  to 

170 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

the  preacher  in  charge.  The  pastor  was  called  in  and  in- 
formed by  "J.  P."  of  the  decree  of  the  council.  The  brave 
circuit  rider  deported  himself  as  well  as  a  good  man  could  in 
the  adverse  circumstances.  He  thanked  them  for  what  they 
had  done  in  good  voice,  attended  by  one  of  those  feeble, 
fluctuating  smiles  that  often  appear  on  occasions  of  disap- 
pointment, and  invited  one  and  all  out  to  dinner.  Sister 
Trotter  had  worked  and  worried.  Her  dinner  was  superb — 
rich,  rare  and  racy.  The  bread  was  brown  on  top,  with  a 
thin,  delicate  crust  at  the  bottom.  The  rice  grains  were 
cooked  whole,  and  thoroughly  done.  The  roast  was  tender 
and  juicy,  the  ham  had  been  boiled  just  enough,  the  cutlets 
were  stewed  well  down  and  nicely  seasoned,  the  macaroni  pie 
was  most  savory,  the  coffee  of  a  rich  amber  without  a  dreg, 
the  Irish  potato  salad,  sliced  sweet  potatoes  after  being  baked, 
stewed  in  sugar  and  butter,  and  condiments  in  pickles  and 
catsup,  stood  all  around,  greatly  encouraging  the  appetite. 
Oh!  it  was  a  dinner,  and  no  one  enjoyed  the  "persumptuous" 
meal  more  than  did  old  Uncle  Zeke  Swartz. 


When  the  Rev.  Thos.  Trotter  sat  alone  in  his  study  by  the 
blazing  fire  late  in  the  afternoon,  after  the  stewards  had  all 
departed  for  their  homes,  he  gave  himself  up  to  moments  of 
melancholy  reflections,  natural  to  mortals  of  keen  sensibilities 
whose  hopes  have  been  frustrated  and  whose  praiseworthy 
plans  could  not  be  executed.  Trotter  was  a  disappointed 
man.  He  was  anxious  for  an  increase  of  salary  that  he  might 
be  able  to  accomphsh  two  things — first,  by  strict  economy, 
plus  the  yield  of  the  three-acre  patch,  to  send  his  seventeen- 
year-old  boy,  an  ambitious  lad  who  had  jut  finished  the  ninth 
grade  in  the  village  school,  to  college;  second,  to  gratify  tlie 
wishes  and  fulfill  the  conditional  promise  to  Lila  May,  his 
oldest  daughter,  in  purchasing  for  her  a  piano  on  an  easy 
installment  plan.     These  cherished  hopes  had  all  been  scat- 

171 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

tared  to  the  winds  by  the  disastrous  speech  of  Bro.  Swartz 
and  the  vote  of  the  Board  of  Stewards,  and  Clarence,  the  boy 
must  stay  at  home,  and  Lila  May  must  do  without  the  piano. 
There  is  nothing  that  so  saddens  a  parent's  heart  as  to  be  con- 
strained to  disappoint  the  high  hopes  and  commendable  plans 
of  his  children.  The  shock  of  personal  grievances  can  be 
withstood,  personal  disappointments  can  be  easily  borne,  but 
it  is  hard  to  be  compelled  to  darken  the  way  of  the  bright  and 
joyous  expectations  and  thwart  the  praiseworthy  designs  and 
the  laudable  aspirations  of  the  young.  It  hurts  away  down 
near  the  heart — and  so  that  dreary  evening  in  January,  after 
the  stewards  had  gone,  as  Trotter  reflected,  and  mused,  and 
looked  into  the  blazing  fire,  all  alone  in  his  study,  he  could 
not  restrain  the  silent  tear  from  falling  as  he  thought  of  the 
now  vanished  piano  for  Lila  May,  and  Clarence's  poor  pros- 
pects of  entering  college — both  of  which  had  been  the  talk  of 
the  family  fireside  for  many  days  past.  This  was  not  the 
first  hard  stroke  Trotter  had  received  since  he  entered  the  min- 
istry in  obedience  to  the  "call,"  with  a  clear  conscience  and 
godly  purpose.  He  had,  without  a  murmur  or  word  of  com- 
plaint, drank  the  cup  of  financial  embarrassment  and  humilia- 
tion to  the  dregs.  On  a  certain  circuit  of  the  same  faith  and 
order  as  the  Punkeyton  he  had  once  to  don  his  old  brown, 
three-year-old  faded  coat  .and  borrow  $25  from  a  Presbyterian 
brother  with  which  to  meet  his  brethren  and  defray  his 
expenses  at  Conference.  On  another  circuit  of  the  same 
grade  and  godliness  as  the  Punkeyton,  he  had  to  send  his 
report  and  Conference  collections  by  the  hands  of  a  steward 
delegate  because  he  was  not  able  to  pay  his  own  expenses. 
He  could  not  borrow — tried  and  failed.  That  charge  still 
owes  him  over  $100  and  interest  for  several  years.  The  fear- 
ful deficit  will  likely  continue  to  increase  until  the  great  judg- 
ment day. 

Another  true  incident — trifling  in  itself,  yet  it  bespeaks  of 
a  poverty  persecution  inflicted  on  a  faithful  itinerant  of  which 

172 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

the  world  never  heard  before.  A  lovely  little  child  had  died 
in  Trotter's  home.  A  leading  steward  called  to  see  the  child 
and  afflicted  family  just  a  moment  or  two  after  the  precious 
one  left  this  world  of  sorrow.  Its  eyes  would  not  remain 
closed,  "Put  a  gold  coin  or  silver  piece  on  the  lids,"  said  the 
steward.  There  was  no  gold  coin  in  that  parsonage,  nor  had 
there  been  one  in  a  long  time;  neither  was  there  a  piece  of 
silver.  A  brass  penny,  a  dull,  copper  one-cent,  was  all  that 
Trotter  had  on  hand — and  the  leading  steward  worth  $20,000 
or  more,  stood  by  with  equanimity  and  permitted  it  to  be 
placed  there — the  one-cent  piece  of  brass — to  keep  closed  the 
eyelid  of  the  lifeless  child !  It  was,  I've  thought,  one  of  the 
dreariest  and  saddest  instances  of  extreme  poverty  that  had 
ever  occurred  in  the  history  of  the  South  Carolina  Confer- 
ence. 

VI. 

But  the  laudable  ambition  of  the  seventeen-year-old  Clar- 
ences and  the  reasonable  wants  and  demands  of  the  musical 
Lila  Mays  must  be  attended  to.  Should  they  not.''  Should 
they  not  their  commendable  aspirations  be  encouraged — and 
ways  and  means  provided  to  train,  educate,  to  embellish,  that 
they  might  keep  abreast  with  enlightened  progi'cssivcncss. 
But  how.''  If  not  by  sacred  means — if  that  prove  insufficient 
— money  and  means  accruing  from  a  sacred  calling,  why  not 
resort  to  secular  means  to  a  reasonable  and  righteous  extent.'* 
A  college  education  of  a  promising  boy  is  sacred  business,  and 
the  musical  training  and  the  piano  for  the  girl — if  she  have 
talent — is  not  that  sacred  business,  too.?  "Let  us  hold  fast  to 
the  faith,"  says  a  pious  exhorter — and  I'm  glad  we  have  pious 
exhorters — "let  us  hold  fast  to  the  faith,  walk  wortliy  of  our 
high  vocation  and  avoid  secularity."  Amen  !  But  a  seculax'- 
ity  that  gives  a  Christian  education  to  a  boy  and  refines  and 
enlightens  a  promising  daughter,  does  not  that  secularity  be- 
come almost  as  sacred  as  an  altar?  Is  not  that  showing  piety 
at  home?     "Providence  will  provide,"   says  the  same  pious 

173 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

exhorter.  Yes,  indeed,  but  the  bigotry,  narrow-mindedness 
and  penuriousness  engrafted  into  such  responsible  souls  as 
J.  P.  Huckster,  Zeke  Swartz  and  Sister  Sophronia  Starkey 
form  a  combination  wherever  it  unfortunately  exists,  suffi- 
ciently for  a  time  at  least,  to  defeat  as  beneficent  designs  of 
a  kind  Providence  as  ever  rose  with  a  morning  sun !  You 
don't  have  to  go  far,  nor  search  diligently,  in  some  sections 
to  find  the  conspicuous  conditions  of  a  growing  secularity 
in  the  South  Carolina  Conference.  I  fear  it  is  gaining 
ground,  or  rather,  the  necessity  back  of  it  that  compels.  It 
is  the  demand  that  drives.  Not  long  since  a  fellow-minister, 
needing  more  cash  to  provide  for  his  own,  told  me  how  suc- 
cessful he  had  been  in  buying  acres  and  selling  again  at  a 
profit— realizing  as  much  by  the  transaction  as  his  one  year's 
"ministerial  support."  Another  preacher  preached  on  Sun- 
day about  the  treasures  in  heaven,  and  bought  town  lots  on 
Monday.  Sold  the  lots  at  a  big  profit  to  educate  his  sons. 
I  was  making  inquiries  the  other  day  of  a  friend  who  travels 
about,  concerning  the  health  and  habits  of  a  fellow-minister 
who  occupied  a  small  station  in  his  town,  and  he  said  the 
preacher  was  doing  well,  was  having  revival  meetings,  con- 
ducted by  a  traveling  evangelist  of  course,  that  he  liked  the 
climate  and  the  people,  but  the  salary  was  not  sufficient,  and 
the  preacher  was  going  around  as  agent  for  an  insurance 
company  to  help  support  himself  and  family.  Another  good 
preacher  not  only  preaches  the  faith  once  delivered  and  edifies 
believers,  but  becomes  an  expert  designer  of  houses  and  homes, 
and  lets  himself  out  to  the  public  as  an  architect  and  makes 
money.  Another  reverend  gentleman,  with  a  family  of  seven, 
whose  parishioners  promise  $700,  manipulates  skillfully  the 
keys  of  pianos  and  blows  music  into  B  flat  comets,  and  teaches 
instrumental  music  by  the  hour  or  session,  thus  materially 
adding  to  his  income.  One  preacher  becomes  inventive  and 
discovers  a  new  and  pious  way  to  catch  a  rat,  and  knows  how 
to  make  a  horse  bridle  without  buckles — patent  applied  for. 

174 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

Another  good,  gentle  man,  who  lives  under  a  conviction  that 
he  was  called  to  preach  the  glorious  Gospel,  obtains  the  posses- 
sion of  a  woolly  horse — a  meek  looking  sorrel  with  hair  long 
and  soft  like  wool,  and  I  am  told  on  good  authority  tiiat  he 
exhibited  the  woolly  animal  behind  canvas  for  ten  cents  a 
show.  He  doubtless  needed  the  surplus  shekels  accruing  from 
the  horse  show  with  which  to  buy  bread  and  books. 

It  is  a  sad  sight  to  see,  yet  a  sight  that  has  been  seen :  An 
elderly  and  rather  dignified  preacher  ministering  at  the  altar 
of  the  church — administering  the  Sacrament,  or  talking  to 
"mourners"  on  Sundays,  and  going  around  the  following 
week  among  his  parishioners,  driving  a  poor  horse,  visiting 
from  house  to  house,  having  prayers  and  selling  an  old  patent 
chum,  or  coffee  pot,  for  the  sake  of  small  profits — done  to 
keep  the  wolf  from  the  door. 

This  necessity  should  by  all  means  be  avoided,  especially  by 
prosperous  Christian  communities — this  land  selling,  woolly 
horse,  coff^ee  pot  and  patent  churn  business — to  supplement 
the  preacher's  salary  and  support.  No  preacher  can  make 
ful  proof  of  his  ministry  and  have  a  seat  in  the  market  place 
and  indulge  in  trade  and  traffic.  No  prophet  can  well  bear 
the  burden  of  souls  and  be  zealous  in  pulling  down  the  strong- 
holds of  Satan  when  he  always  must  need  be  looking  around 
for  an  extra  job  in  order  to  secure  comforts  for  his  home  and 
"rations"  for  his  pot. 

VII. 

What  are  the  legitimate  expenses  of  a  traveling  preacher  in 
the  South  Carolina  Conference,  or,  for  that  matter,  in  the 
Alabama,  or  Georgia  Conferences,  whose  family  equals  that 
of  the  Rev.  Thos.  Trotter's  in  number,  expectations  and 
aspirations.?  What  should  be  the  reasonable  and  righteous 
sum  for  salary  assessed  by  a  broad-minded  and  godly  Board 
of  Stewards  to  defray  the  necessary  expenses  of  six  children 
from  four  to  seventeen  years  of  age — all  bright,  live  crea- 
tures, and  two  enlightened  adults  who  are  obligated  to  serve 

176 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

the  Lord  and  obey  His  commandments  in  spreading  Scrip- 
tural holiness  over  the  land?  Let  us  cogitate  and  consult 
together  without  exaggeration  concerning  the  contribution  to 
the  saints,  and  introduce  a  comparison  in  expenditure  that 
shows  the  sense  of  appreciation  and  the  general  religious  drift 
among  a  dear  people  who  are  on  their  way  to  Canaan's  happy 
land. 

It  is  surprising  to  know  how  liberally  our  people  as  a  gen- 
eral rule  contribute  to  useless  things,  unnecessary  luxuries  and 
extraneous  measures,  which  neither  confer  grace  nor  glory. 
I  have  no  inclination  to  wage  a  war  against  tobacco  and 
tobacco  users,  but  let  us  put  down  the  expenses  incurred  by 
this  extravagance,  together  with  the  amount  expended  for 
other  narcotics  by  the  average  well-to-do  congregation  of 
believers.  Take,  for  instance,  the  Punkeyton  Circuit,  assessed 
$650.00  for  the  support  of  the  preacher  in  charge.  There 
are,  say,  460  members — that  is  nearly  the  average  member- 
ship of  a  pastoral  charge — 460  members.  It  would  be  safe 
to  say  there  are  200  males.  Of  that  number  there  are  about 
80  from  14  to  60  years  of  age.  Of  that  number — and  this 
remark  is  based  on  close  observation — there  are  fully  50  who 
use  tobacco  in  cigarette,  in  pipe,  in  five-cent  cigars  and  in 
downright  chewing.  The  whiskey  bill,  I  am  sorry  to  state, 
continues  to  be  a  considerable  item  of  expense  in  congrega- 
tions of  Christians  generally.  There  is  a  small  per  cent,  of 
our  people,  here  and  there,  who  use  whiskey  more  than  for 
necessary  purposes.  I've  been  North,  East  and  West,  and  I 
am  now  living  in  the  Southern  section  of  our  beloved  State, 
and  I  declare  that  much  intoxicating  liquors  in  "wet"  places 
and  "dry"  are  sold  and  bought  for  beverage.  We  have  a 
more  temperate  people  than  we  had  years  ago ;  we  have  less 
drunkenness  than  fonnerly,  but  still  the  old  dram  cup  is 
passed  around — "fuss"  X  at  the  cross-roads  and  palatable 
punch  in  the  halls  of  society — and  it  will  ever,  it  seems,  be  a 
menacing  evil.     Once,  not  long  ago,  I  lived  in  a  "dry  town" 

176 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

— a  very  dry  town — and  I  was  glad  I  did  live,  move  and  have 
my  being  in  that  same  dry  town.  A  fearful  situation  was 
revealed  when,  on  one  occasion,  Saturday,  I  visited  the  express 
office  of  the  "dry"  town.  I  noticed  all  sorts  and  sizes  of  jugs 
and  demijohns  there,  from  distilleries  and  liquor  houses,  from 
the  Old  North  State  or  other  States.  I  notice  they,  the  jugs 
and  demijohns,  all  belonged  to  the  different  denominations. 
There  stood  the  Presbyterian  demijohn,  and  right  near  its 
brother  was  the  big  mouth  broAvn  jug  of  the  Baptist  persua- 
sion, and  over  against  the  Baptist  brown  jug  was  a  large 
chosen  vessel  of  a  Methodist.  I  departed  from  the  express 
office,  after  seeing  and  knowing,  filled  with  troubled  thoughts 
of  the  trend  and  tendency  of  denominationalism  in  South 
Carolina. 

Well,  even  away  back  on  the  Punkeyton  Circuit,  as  every- 
body knows,  the  whiskey  bill  is  no  small  item  of  expense  among 
the  people  who  use  it.  To  the  liquor  and  tobacco  bills  I 
might  add  the  snufF  and  morphine  outlay.  Wherever  you 
may  be,  on  land  or  on  the  sea,  you  will  find  some  one  who  "eats 
morphine."  Sometimes  it  is  a  quiet,  drowsy,  old,  pale  female, 
sitting  in  the  chimney  comer  of  a  village  or  country  home, 
with  a  bottle  of  opiate  "handy,"  and  the  poor  old  creature  will 
have  devoured  pecks  of  it  before  her  departure  to  the  other 
world.  SnufF  is  in  demand  in  places.  Go  to  any  up-country 
town,  especially  if  there  are  cotton  mills  around,  and  in  most 
of  the  town  groceries,  and  in  all  the  mill  stores,  you  will  find 
cart-loads  of  snufF — and  how,  with  their  little  sticks  in  their 
mouths  they  snufF  and  snufF,  all  the  day  long! 

I  will  not  comment  longer  on  the  sad  story,  but  with  a  view 
of  a  general  average,  below  are  about  the  facts  and  figures  of 
the  Punkeyton  Circuit — 460  strong: 

Fifty,  with  pipe,  cigar,  cigarette,  or  "chawin'," 
4  to  6V2  cents  per  diem,  say  5  cents,  per  year, 
at   least $    912  50 


1T7 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

The  whiskey  bill — not  including  medical  and  "cam- 
fire  liquor"  expenses $    150  00 

Morphine  eating  and  snuff  snuffling  (low  estimate)         50  00 


Total,  in  pipe,  jug,  snuff  box  and  morphine 

bottle $1,112  50 

But,  to  the  question :  What  are  the  reasonable  expenses  of 
a  preacher  and  family  in  the  South  Carolina  Conference  of 
this  day  and  time,  and  what  should  the  assessment  be?  Let 
us  see,  and  be  fair  with  figures  and  honest  with  facts.  Let  us 
take  that  same  family  of  Ti'otters,  eight  in  all.  Let  them 
live  decently  and  in  order,  and  let  them  be  kept  free  from 
embarrassment  in  bed,  board  and  clothing.  Let  it  be  under- 
stood that  Trotter  must  stay  on  his  work  all  the  year  long, 
and  bear  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day.  No  mountain  trip 
for  Trotter,  no  excursions — nothing  will  be  allowed  for  extra 
refreshment  and  recreation.  Trotter  must  keep  healthy  and 
hearty.  The  drug  store  bills,  plasters  and  panaceas  are  not 
included  in  the  bill  of  items  mentioned  further  on.  Mrs. 
Trotter  must  hold  her  own  and  avoid  sanitariums  and  hos- 
pitals, as  medical  and  infirmary  fees  are  not  thought  of  in  the 
account.  Trotter  is  presumed  not  to  pay  any  fees  to  society, 
such  as  are  growing  now  in  conspicuousness  as  the  "Sons  of 
Confucius,"  or  "Cavaliers  of  Bengal."  It  is  also  presumed 
that  he  pays  nothing  for  life  insurance,  and  belongs  to  no 
life  insurance  organization.  No  one  will  object  to  him  pay- 
ing towards  the  benevolent  collections  of  the  Church.  It 
would  be  cruel  to  deprive  him  of  that  great  pleasure,  and  $20 
is  placed  in  the  account.  The  board  bill  includes  of  course  the 
cost  of  entertaining  visitors — fellow  preachers  assisting  in 
protracted  meetings,  the  appreciated  visits  of  the  Presiding 
Elder,  college  agents,  etc. : 
Board  and  table  expenses — including  cow  expenses .  $    480  00 

Clothing — the  three  smaller  children 20  00 

Clothing — the  three  larger  children 40  00 

178 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

Clothing — for  the  two  parent-Trotters $     50  00 

One  cook — services  and  board 96  00 

Washing — $2.00  per  month 24  00 

Ironing    12  00 

Extra  laundry  work 12  00 

Keeping  a  valuable  horse  in  good  condition 75  00 

Shoeing  that  horse 6  00 

Buggy  repairs  and  oil 4  00 

Harness   repairs 3  00 

District  and  Annual  Conference  expenses 15  00 

District  Institute  expenses 2  00 

Books   and  periodicals 6  00 

Fuel  and  lights 40  00 

School  expenses — supplementary  to  public   school 

fund    15  00 

]\Iusic — tuition    10  00 

School  books,  pads,  pencils,  etc 10  00 

Stationery,  stamps,  etc 4  00 

Taxes  on  one  cow,  one  horse,  one  watch  and  poll ...  3  00 

Benevolent  collection  contribution 20  00 

Total    $  947  00 

If  he  is  moved,  add 25  00 

If  he  sends  the  17-year-old  lad  to  college,  take  price 

of  home  board  from  $250.00 190  00 

Grand  total $1,162  00 

Income : 

Let  us  grant  him $  800  00 

Marriage  fees  (about) 30  00 

Garden  and  patch 40  00 

"Pounding" — few,  irregular,  mostly  uncertain  ...  30  00 

Total    $  900  00 


179 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

There  is  a  balance  on  the  wrong  side  here  of  $262.00, 
which  places  the  Circuit  Rider  in  debt  so  as  to  embarrass  him 
and  others.  A  second  year  of  such  a  deficit  and  expenditure 
would  drive  him  to  the  wall,  and  it  would  only  be  a  question 
of  time  when  he  would  be  obliged  to  quit  the  Conference  and 
surrender  his  credentials — if  he  continued  to  thus  live  beyond 
his  income.  But  the  average  itinerant  preacher  like  Trotter 
"foreseeth  the  evil  and  hideth  himself" — and  lives  within  his 
salary  limitations.  How  is  it  done.''  By  strictest  economy, 
wise  financiering  in  dimes  and  nickels,  and  by  self-denial. 
The  cook  is  dismissed,  or  not  hired  at  all,  and  the  wife  does  the 
cooking,  scouring  and  dish  washing.  Trotter,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  children,  cuts  the  stove  wood,  minds  off  the 
calf  and  becomes  a  general  "hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of 
water."  The  book  and  periodical  bill  is  cut  down  to  one  or 
two  dollars.  A  washing  machine  is  introduced  and  Trotter 
turns  the  crank — thus  saving  quite  a  sum.  Most  of  the 
clothing  is  darned  and  redarned,  patch  and  repatched — an- 
other item  to  be  discounted.  Trotter's  regulation  pulpit  and 
Conference  coat,  now  in  its  fourth  year,  has  been  binished  and 
brushed,  and  to  keep  it  fresh  looking  and  active  in  the  service, 
chemicals  have  been  applied  to  it  so  copiously  and  so  fre- 
quently that  on  a  calm,  damp  morning.  Trotter,  with  that 
coat  on,  has  been  known  to  smell  like  an  old  ammonia  bottle. 
Closest,  severest  attention  must  constantly  be  paid  to  table 
expenses.  When  the  old  cow  goes  dry  there  is  a  dearth  of 
deserts  and  dainties,  and  when  she  "comes  in"  again  the  event 
is  hailed  with  delight  by  all  the  parsonage  family.  The  fare 
generally  must  consist  of  a  diet  noted  for  its  inexpensiveness : 
grits  and  gravy.  Of  course  there  are  attendant  circum- 
stances of  bread,  bacon  and  vegetables  in  vegetable  time,  but 
the  main  substantial  and  regular  fare  must  be  grits  and 
gravy.  All  can  get  so  they  like  grits  and  gravy.  Appetite 
is  the  best  sauce.  After  drawing  the  water,  cutting  the  wood, 
digging  the  patch  and  minding  off  the  calf.  Trotter  is  glad 

180 


The  ''Call"  to  Preach. 

to  say  grace  over  his  grits  and  gravy,  the  wee  Trotters  become 
fond  of  'em  and,  doubtless,  early  conclude  that  the  principal 
food  of  all  the  earth  consists  of  grits  and  gravy. 

So  by  working  with  "both  hands  earnestly"  along  lines  of 
strictest  economy  the  Circuit  Rider  allowed  $800.00  can  get 
down  and  live  within  his  income,  and  may  be,  have  enough  at 
the  end  of  the  year  to  defray  his  expenses  and  pay  his  "grits 
and  gravy"  bill  until  the  fii'st  Quarterly  Conference  of  an- 
other year  arrives.  There  are,  according  to  the  Minutes  of 
1896,  only  ten  circuits  in  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
which  pay  for  the  support  of  preacher  and  family  $1,000  to 
$1,100  a  year.  There  are  thirteen  circuits  which  pay  from 
$800  to  $850  a  year.  There  are  scores  and  scores  of  others 
which  fall  way  below  those  figures. 

VIII. 

Not  as  the  angels  do,  but  as  many  mortals  here  below  look 
upon  it,  the  termination  of  the  average  Circuit  Rider's  faith- 
ful itineracy  in  death  has  in  it  a  peculiar  pathos,  not  so  con- 
spicuous in  the  closing  scenes  of  other  earthly  careers.  Often 
there  is  nothing  in  his  exit  from  the  stage  of  action  to  attract 
attention  of  the  world  of  business  around  him,  or  disturb  m 
the  least  the  ceaseless  hum  of  trade.  The  bulletins  of  his 
dying  moments  are  not  wired  over  the  land  to  be  eagerly  read 
by  anxious  and  surging  crowds.  The  world's  wild  tramp 
doesn't  stop  to  take  notice  of  an  humble  preacher  passing 
away,  and  few  only  are  for  a  moment  arrested  by  the  sad 
notes  of  his  funeral  bell.  The  banks  have  lost  no  depositor, 
the  lawyer  no  client.  The  State  has  lost  no  important  tax- 
payer, politics  no  partisan.  There  is  no  large  estate  for  the 
administrator  to  settle,  no  claims  of  heirs  to  adjudicate.  I 
have  seen  on  a  table  in  a  rear  room  at  Conference  most  of 
his  earthly  possessions:  a  few  books— the  dead  preacher's 
library  left  to  be  sold  at  about  half-price  for  the  benefit  of 
the  widow  and  orphan  child.     I  have  seen  his  grave  away  back 

181 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

amidst  the  wild  wood  in  a  quiet  country  churchyard.  A  sim- 
ple marble  slab,  worn  and  weather  beaten,  shows  where  the 
hero  lies  interred.  He  at  last  found  a  resting  place  in  a 
strange  ground  whose  memorial  stones  around  him  bear  no 
kindred  name.  He  gave  to  the  world  all  he  had,  his  time, 
talent,  his  life,  and,  in  a  commercial  sense,  with  everything 
lost,  and  nothing  gained.  No  landed  estate  does  he  own,  no 
place  on  earth  could  be  called  his  home.  Perhaps  his  plans 
and  purposes  during  life  have  often  been  thwarted,  the  frui- 
tion of  the  heart's  longings,  denied  him,  but  sore  and  weary 
he  toiled  on  from  year  to  year  because  he  felt  that  God  hast 
called  him  and  bade  him  go.  His  struggles  against  want  and 
chill  penury  have  been  long  and  severe  from  early  manhood  to 
the  very  last  hour  of  earth's  existence.  His  troubles  and  bur- 
dens have  often  been  the  most  trying,  his  silent  tears  the 
saddest.  But  at  his  post  he  fell ;  all  hardships  and  trials  are 
over,  and  he  has  found  a  place  at  last.  I  recall  the  end  of 
one  whose  career  was  a  brief  one  in  our  Conference,  whose 
name  doubtless  by  many  has  been  forgotten,  but  who  had 
that  sublime  courage  and  Christian  zeal  so  clearly  marked  in 
the  character  of  the  martyred  heroes  of  old.  I  refer  to  Lucius 
Bellinger,  whom,  personally,  I  did  not  know.  He  was  moved 
by  the  Conference  during  a  bleak  season  in  midwinter  from 
Orangeburg  County  to  Sampit,  in  Georgetown.  He  was 
taken  ill  upon  his  arrival  to  his  new  field  of  labor,  and,  after 
a  short,  painful  illness,  the  brave  itinerant  preacher  was 
called  up  higher.  A  Hebrew  physician,  Dr.  M.  S.  Iseman, 
whose  name  should  be  held  in  grateful  remembrance,  attended 
the  preacher  during  his  dying  moments  and  thus  records  the 
incident  and  the  closing  scene : 

"I  saw  my  patient  for  the  first  time  as  he  lay  prone  upon 
his  bed,  tossing  with  pain  and  delirium ;  neither  suffering  nor 
the  ravages  of  a  mortal  disease  could  mar  the  benign  expres- 
sion of  striking  dignity  of  a  face  cast  in  such  kingly  mould. 

"At   brief  intervals   a   gleam   of   returning   consciousness 

182 


The  "Call"  to  Preach. 

would  enable  him  to  recognize  those  at  his  bedside.  Even  at 
this  moment  I  can  recall  the  smile,  the  charming  manners,  and, 
above  all,  the  cheerful  play  of  sunlight  illumining  his  features 
during  those  flitting  moments  of  lucidity. 

"He  would  open  those  large,  bright  blue  eyes  of  his — a 
soft,  melting  blue — beaming  with  kindness  and  boundless  love, 
answer  a  few  questions  intelligently,  never  failing  as  oft  as 
he  recognized  me  to  inquire  after  his  old  friend  and  com- 
panion. Brother  Stokes,  whom  he  knew  lay  ill  at  Georgetown. 
All  through  his  brief  illness,  he  was  still  the  watchman  on  the 
heights,  the  shepherd  calling  to  his  flock ;  as  he  lived  so  would 
he  die,  with  the  name  and  battlecry  of  his  Master  upon  his 
lips. 

"Alas,  the  transition  was  rapid.  The  day  before  he 
passed  away  I  knew  the  fair-haired  Levite  had  sung  his  last 
canticle  before  his  earthly  altar,  and  when  next  he  would 
swing  the  golden  censer,  it  would  be  in  that  temple  where  the 
Urim  and  Thummim  dim  not  upon  the  breastplate  of  the 
faithful  and  the  light  burns  before  the  mercy-seat  forever." 

The  Michigan  Christian  Advocate  published  a  few  years 
ago  the  following  lines,  written  by  the  wife  of  an  itinerant 
preacher : 

"A  place  of  my  own  at  last!"  he  said. 
As  he  stretched  his  limbs  in  his  dying  bed. 
Then  his  smile  grew  strangely  sweet  and  bright, 
And  his  eye  lit  up  with  a  heavenly  light. 

"Just  a  little  place,  six  feet  by  two, 
Is  all  that  I  need  with  my  travel's  trough ; 
To  the  world  my  grave  in  flowers  will  smile 
As  my  dust  returns  imto  dust  the  while. 

"Body  and  spirit  I  am  content — 
The  way  now  shines  where  my  Master  went ; 
Hardships   forever  gone  with  the  past, 
A  city  appointment  hails  me  at  last !" 

183 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

CHAPTER  V. 

Ideas  and  Items. 

From  debt,  dirt  and  the  devil,  good  Lord  deliver  us. 

*  *  * 

What  is  a  crank? 

One  of  God  Almighty's  instruments  out  of  tune  and 
cracked. 

*  *  * 

Insurance  Agent  (to  widow)  :  "I  will  send  you  a  check  for 
the  $5,000  insurance  on  your  late  husband." 

Widow :  "Ah,  if  my  poor  husband  had  only  lived  to  see  this 
day ."' 

Two  colored  brethren  overheard  on  the  subject  of  prayer — 
Joe :  "Say,  Bro.  Sam,  what  am  de  best  way  ter  pray ;  wid 
your  eyes  open  or  shot?" 

Sam:  "Wid  my  eyes  shot,  ob  course,  from  de  world,  ole 
self,  everything.     Why ;  how  does  you  pray  ?" 

Joe :  "I  prays  wid  my  eyes  open ;  kase  de  Scriptur'  say  you 
must  watch  while  you  pray." 

*  *   5^ 

Sister  Trepan:  "I'll  say  this,  I  am  just  a  poor  old  sinner. 
I  do  many  things  I  oughtn't  to,  so  I  do;  I  am  a  poor  sinner 
—but—" 

A  Neighbor :  "That's  what  I  have  heard ;  I  am  told  that  at 
times  you  are  rather  obstreperous — " 

Sister  Trepan :  "Look  here,  when  you  come  to  the  real  facts 
I'm  as  good  as  you  or  anybody  else,  and  whoever  says  I  am 
s'treperous,  and  such  like,  tells  what's  not  so,  and  I'm  right 
here  to  tell  ye!" 

Moral — It  won't  do  to  tell  some  people  their  faults  or 
point  out  their  follies.  If  you  desire  peace,  let  them  confess 
their  own  sins. 

184 


Ideas  and  Items. 

The  following  will  readily,  generally,  keep  our  dear  lay- 
men, who  were  elected  delegates,  from  attending  the  District 
Conference  of  their  Church : 

1.  A  sick  mule. 

2.  Showers,  in  potato-slip  time. 

3.  The  building  of  a  new  kitchen,  dining-room,  or  pasture 
fence. 

4.  A  coroner's  inquest  in  the  neighborhood. 

5.  The  Circuit  Court,  to  convene  a  week  after  the  Confer- 
ence, where  they  are  to  serve  as  jurors.  Therefore,  they  say, 
"Please  have  me  excused." 

*  *  * 

Don't  scenes  shift  in  a  startling  way  in  this  dear  old  chang- 
ing world.'' 

Little  Girl  (playing)  :  "Oh,  my  doll,  my  dolly — hit's  name 
is  Susie.  Sit  in  yo'  'ittle  chair  and  let  me  sing  to  'oo." 
(Sings.) 

Same  Girl,  twelve  years  after  (not  playing).  Time,  mid- 
night: "Jim,  you  just  get  right  out  of  that  bed  and  go  for 
the  doctor.  I've  been  holding  this  brat  in  my  arms  half  the 
night,  and  every  time  I  sit  down  he  bawls  and  bawls — and 
vou  over  there  in  bed  a-snoring  and  a-snoring.  Go  for  the 
doctor,  I  say,  Jim.'      (Weeps.) 

*  *   * 

Senator  Tillman  tells  of  an  old  darky  in  his  employ  that  he 
once  permitted  to  make  use  of  certain  land  for  farming  pur- 
poses on  condition  that  the  darkey  should  give  to  the  Senator 
one-fourth  of  the  crop  raised. 

At  the  harvesting  of  the  crop  the  Senator  was  amazed  to 
find  that  the  darky  had  not  kept  his  part  of  the  agreement, 
for,  while  he  hauled  away  three  w^gon  loads  of  produce,  he 
had  not  sent  a  single  one  to  the  Senator's  barn.  Tillman 
called  the  negro's  attention  to  the  fact  that  he  had  taken  the 
entire  crop,  asking: 

185 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"Now,  how's  that,  Zeh?  Wasn't  I  to  receive  a  fourth  of 
the  crop?" 

"You  was,  Massa  Tillman,  you  was,"  excitedly  exclaimed 
the  darky,  "but  dere's  only  three  loads,  sah,  only  three  loads." 

*   *   * 

The  day  after  the  battle  of  Manassas  Jackson's  pastor, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  White,  was  standing  in  front  of  the  postoffice  in 
Lexington,  anxiously  awaiting  the  opening  of  the  mail.  A 
letter  was  handed  to  him.  As  soon  as  this  was  done  he  recog- 
nized Jackson's  handwriting,  and  exclaimed  to  the  expectant 
group  around  him :  "Now  we  shall  know  all  about  the  facts." 
He  opened  it  and  read: 

"  'My  Dear  Pastor:  In  my  tent  last  night,  after  a  fatigu- 
ing day's  service,  I  remembered  that  I  had  failed  to  send  you 
my  contribution  for  our  colored  Sunday  school.  Inclosed  you 
will  find  my  check  for  that  object,  which  please  acknowledge 
at  your  earliest  convenience,  and  oblige. 

"  'Yours  faithfully,  T.  J.  Jackson.' 


»  »» 


*  *  * 

Apphcation  warranted  by  facts:  "Who  hath  woe?  Who 
hath  sorrow?  Who  hath  contentions?  Who  hath  babbling? 
Who  hath  wounds  without  a  cause?  Who  hath  redness  of 
eyes?"  They  that  tarry  long  at  "the  bucket  shops,"  they 
that  seek  fortunes  in  cotton  futures. 


Compensation. — I  have  seen  an  old  married  man,  worth 
thousands,  without  an  heir;  I  have  seen  a  married  man  with- 
out lands,  and  "no  cottage  in  the  wilderness,"  who  had  'em  in 
abundance.  Which  is  the  richer?  Which  of  the  two  has  the 
greater  fortune? 

^      ^      0 

"A  man  kin  forgit  his  manners  an'  git  along  foh  awhile," 
said  Uncle  Eben,  "but  de  fust'  t'ing  he  knows  he  gits  so 

186 


Ideas  and  Items. 

liaughty  he  neglects  to  bow  to  de  inevitable,  an'  den  he's  in 
trouble  sho'  nufF." — Sel. 


Where  shall  the  next  District  Conference  be  held?  Where 
arc  the  District  Conferences  being  held  this  year?  In  the 
small  towns  and  villages  mostly.  They  are  more  appreciated 
there  and  congregations  are  larger.  Avoid  the  big  towns, 
and  the  big  churches  in  the  big  towns.  They  will  freeze  out 
your  District  Conferences,  I  have  seen  it  ti-ied.  The  aver- 
age District  Conference,  you  know,  for  blaze,  show  and  excite- 
ment, can't  compete  with  the  carnival  exhibits  and  the  thrilling 
theatrical  displays.  Then  again,  there  is  the  push  of  busi- 
ness and  the  superior  wisdom  of  some  city  people.  Go,  there- 
fore, to  the  country — meet  in  some  quiet  village. 


The  steamer  was  sinking,  and  a  stout  German,  seizing  a  life 
preserver  which  some  one  had  thrown  aside,  stood,  with  limbs 
apart  and  distended  cheeks,  blowing  with  all  his  might  to 
inflate  it.  One  of  the  officers  passing  by  said:  "You  can't 
blow  that  thing  up ;  it  has  a  hole  in  it."  "Ish  dot  so,"  said 
the  Teuton,  "den  I  petter  keeps  my  vind  in  me,  ain't  it.?" 


O  negligent  good  housekeeper,  do  pardon  me,  I  write  for 
your  good,  and  I  write,  too,  because  I've  suffered.  In  the 
days  that'  are  gone  I  have  slept  on  a  hot  summer's  Sunday  in 
the  church  building  all  the  night  long.  The  village  reposed 
around  me,  but  there  were  two  or  three  feather  beds  in  "shed 
rooms"  with  which  I  was  acquainted,  and  I  knew  if  I  accepted 
kind  invitations  into  one  or  the  other  I'd  land — so  I  begged 
off  and  slumbered  in  the  house  of  the  Lord,  with  the  amen 
corner  bench  for  my  sleeping  couch  and  the  big  pulpit  Bible 
for  my  pillow, 

"W,,"  said  Dr.  C.  once  in  a  nice  room  where  we  were  to 

187 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

lodge  together  after  a  weary  day ;  "W.,"  said  he,  feehng  of 
the  bed,  "there  is  something  wrong  here — with  the  bed." 
W. — "No,  it  is  clean ;  the  sheets  are  snowy  white." 
C. — "What's  wrong,  then — I — I — smell  a — a — " 
W.-^"New  feathers,  sir,  and  they  have  not  been  properly 
dried  and  aired." 

C. — "Good  gracious,  man !  What  shall  we  do !  It  will 
never  do,  not  to  use  the  bed." 

W. — "No,  never.  You  use  the  bed  and  I'll  to  the  floor. 
And  you  will  do  fairly  well  if  you  are  still.  The  least  move- 
ment of  arms,  head  or  foot  will  create  unpleasant  odors." 

Lying  perfectly  straight,  with  white  sheets  tucked  close 
around  him,  the  doctor,  I  thought,  presented  a  peculiar  pic- 
aure.  He  was  perfectly  still,  however,  and  soon  went  off  into 
a  troubled  series  of  snorts  and  snorings.  I  remember  it  well 
— there  lay  the  divine,  asleep  in  atmospheric  conditions  most 
distressing. 

A  corpse  came  up  on  the  Seaboard  last  night  to  be  shipped 
on  over  the  Southern.  The  transfer  people  had  a  new  negro 
driver  in  charge.  There  was  loaded  on  his  wagon  a  crate  of 
hounds,  besides  the  corpse,  but  the  negro  failed  to  make  any 
mental  note  of  the  hounds,  so  engrossed  was  he  with  his  grue- 
some freight. 

With  all  his  nerves  tingling,  he  drove  on  until  he  got 
between  Eleventh  and  Twelfth  streets.  Here  the  dogs  began 
whining,  but  the  negro  had  forgotten  that  he  had  any  dogs 
along,  and  attributed  the  pitiful  bescreechments  to  the  dead 
man.  "Whoa!"  he  cried,  instinctively,  leaped  from  the 
wagon  and  tore  it  up  to  the  Seaboard  depot. 

The  transfer  people  got  messages  as  to  where  the  horses 
had  halted.  They  thought  that  the  dead  man  had  slid  from 
his  conveyance  or  that  the  wagon  had  bogged  or  the  team 
balked.     So  they  sent  to  the  depot  to  inquire  of  the  negro, 

188 


Ideas  and  Items. 

but,  "Lawd,"  said  he,  "how  c'n  you  cxpec'  me  to  keep  on 
drivin'  a  whinin'  daid  man  ?" 

The  driver  was  not  impervious  to  reason,  however,  and  when 
he  was  convinced  that  the  hounds,  and  not  the  dead  man,  had 
done  the  whining,  he  chmbed  to  his  perch  again  and  made  in 
safety  his  terminus  at  the  Southern. — Charlotte  Observer. 

*   *   * 

It  has  been  remarked  as  a  serious  fact  of  science  that  a  per- 
son cannot  feel  pain  in  two  different  places  at  the  same  time. 
To  be  sure,  there  are  people  who  maintain  that  the  place  some- 
times covers  the  entire  body,  but  that  does  not  interfere  with 
the  general  theory. 

A  certain  dentist,  whose  name  and  address  are  not  given, 
is  a  staunch  adherent  of  this  theory,  and  has  once  or  twice 
sought  to  demonstrate  the  truth  of  it  by  jabbing  his  patients 
in  the  arm  or  leg  with  a  heavy  needle  just  as  he  extracts  the 
offending  tooth.  One  day  he  got  hold  of  a  particularly  stub- 
bom  tooth,  which  gave  him  no  end  of  trouble. 

"Here  it  comes  at  last,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  felt  it  yielding, 
and  at  the  same  time  he  plunged  his  needle  into  the  patient's 

"There,"  he  said  triumphantly,  as  he  held  up  the  forceps, 
with  the  tooth  securely  wedged,  "we've  got  it,  you  see !" 

"Yes,  I  see,"  replied  the  victim,  ruefully.  "I  knew  it  was 
a  big  one,  and  I  was  afraid  it  would  come  hard,  but  I  never 
supposed  the  roots  went  so  far  down  as  this,"  and  he  rubbed 
the  spot  on  his  leg,  where  the  doctor  had  jabbed  him,  with  a 
look  that  was  partly  awe  and  partly  proud. — Youth's  Com- 
panion. 

*  *  * 

The  truth  told  in  pecuHar  circumstances:  Considerable 
amusement  was  created  on  Wednesday  by  a  posted  advertise- 
ment. Just  outside  the  temporary  office  of  a  dentist  the  fol- 
lowing notice  in  lai'ge  letters  was  posted  against  the  wall : 

189 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

"Dr.  G.  R.  Harding, 

The  Painless  Tooth  Extractor 

is  Now  Here. 

Come  in." 

By  pure  accident  the  dentist  had  pasted  his  notice  over  the 
upper  part  of  one  of  the  bills — "The  Lonely  Widow" — which 
appeared  recently  in  the  opera  house,  and  immediately  below 
the  dentist's  announcement  was  the  following  conspicuous  let- 
ters :  "One  Solid  Scream  from  Start  to  Finish." — Newberry 
Observer. 

*  *  * 

In  the  old  home — in  the  low  country — there  are  the  sad, 
dreamy  eyes  of  the  picture  on  the  parlor  wall.  It  is  that  of 
the  little  boy  that  died  some  years  ago.  The  story  is  told. 
He  played  the  day  before  he  died  all  the  morning,  was  taken 
suddenly  ill,  and,  whispering,  "Mama,  mama,"  passed  away. 

Or  it  is  that  of  the  little  girl,  the  pet  of  the  home,  just  10 
or  11  years,  meek,  and  in  disposition  as  sweet  and  lovely  as 
the  violets  and  lillies  she  loved  to  gather  and  twine  in  bouquets 
with  her  tiny  hands.  "Sister,"  says  the  young  brother,  "used 
to  go  after  the  cows  with  me  every  evening,  but  I  have  to  go 
by  myself  now.  Sister — she  is  gone."  All  of  her  playthings 
are  carefully  placed  away,  and  there  is  attached  to  them  the 
most  sacred  sentiment  of  a  mother's  heart.  The  toys,  the 
dolls,  with  the  now  faded  dress  she  made  before  she  was  taken 
ill  of  a  fever — all  kept  to  themselves.  At  times  in  the  morn- 
ing hours,  while  the  "hands"  are  plowing  and  singing  nearby 
in  the  fields,  and  the  husband  is  engaged  in  business  cares,  and 
all  the  world  is  seeking  its  own,  this  bereaved  mother  stops 
often  for  awhile  in  her  domestic  work,  and  thinks  of  her 
darling  child  who  was  taken  from  the  old  home  a  few  years 
ago.  She  creeps  almost  stealthily  to  the  closet  where  the  old 
dolls  and  dresses  and  other  sacred  relics  are  hidden  away,  and 
as  she  views  them,  hot  fresh  tears  steal  down  her  cheeks :  "O 
God!"  she  exclaims,  "why  didst  thou  take  my  child  from  me?" 

190 


Ideas  and  Items. 

These  old  homes  are  here  and  there  in  this  woodland  today. 

And  the  shadows  and  sorrows  are  there. 

And  the  picture  that  hangs  on  the  wall. 

And  the  little  empty  chair,  and  playthings  in  the  closet. 

Thank  God  for  the  consolation  of  the  glorious  Gospel.  Let 
us  journey  cheerfully  on  to  that  other  home  where  there  is  no 
more  sorrow,  "And  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  their 

eyes." 

*  *  * 

The  public  highway  in  Berkeley  and  Orangeburg  in  places 
is  a  delight  to  a  good  horse.  Maude  seems  pleased,  and  makes 
it  readily  nine  miles  in  an  hour.  The  recent  rains  have  packed 
the  sand,  making  private  travel  so  much  more  satisfactory 
and  comfortable.  The  tall  pines  standing  here  and  there, 
gracefully,  hard  by  the  roadside,  and  often  the  road  running 
through  quite  a  forest,  as  yet  untouched  by  the  woodman,  and 
unscarred  by  the  turpentine  seeker,  are  positively  conducive 
to  helpful  thinking  and  soothing  of  the  spirits  of  the  traveler. 
I've  often  somehow  been  stimulated  in  feeling  or  enchanted 
with  hope  of  future  pleasing  prospects  in  driving  through 
forest  of  the  tall  pines.  May  be  there  is  a  subtle  music  in 
these  mighty  silent  shades  which  the  soul  instinctively  recog- 
nizes and  appropriates.  *  *  * 

*  *   *• 

A  father,  fearing  an  earthquake  in  the  region  of  his  home, 
sent  his  two  boys  to  a  distant  friend  until  the  peril  should  be 
over.  A  few  weeks  after,  the  father  received  this  letter  from 
his  friend:  "Please  take  your  boys  home  and  send  down  the 

earthquake." 

*  *  * 

It  is  said  that  John  Wesley  preached  three  hundred  times 
from  the  words,  "Ye  must  be  born  again,"  and  that  when 
asked  why  he  preached  from  it  so  often,  his  answer  was, 
"Because  ye  must  be  born  again." — Abbie  C.  Morrow. 

191 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

Some  modern  Wesleyan  prophets  are  ever  on  the  watch  for 
something  new,  strange  and  pecuhar  in  the  way  of  texts. 
Possibly  some  South  Carohna  preacher  last  Sunday  took  for 
his  text,  "And  Abraham  begat  Isaac." 

*  -*   j& 

"Are  you  the  defendant  in  this  case.'"'  asked  the  judge, 
sharply. 

"No,  suh,"  answered  the  mild-eyed  prisoner.  "I  has  a  law- 
yer hired  ter  do  de  defendin'.     I's  de  man  dat  done  stole  de 

ahticles." — Sel. 

*  *  * 

The  following  has  been  printed  in  many  papers,  and  as  it 
is  such  an  earnest  petition  and  moving  prayer,  I  will  insert 
here:  A  white  minister  was  conducting  religious  services  in  a 
colored  church  in  North  Carolina  recently.  After  exhorting 
a  bit  he  asked  an  old  colored  deacon  to  lead  in  prayer,  and, 
according  to  the  Roanoke  News,  this  is  the  appeal  which  the 
brother  in  black  offered  for  his  brother  in  white: 

"O,  Lord,  gib  him  de  eye  ob  de  eagle,  dat  he  spy  out  sin 
afar  off.  Glue  his  hands  to  be  Gospel  plow.  Tie  his  tongue 
to  de  line  ob  truth.  Nail  his  ear  to  de  Gospel  pole.  Bow  his 
head  way  down  between  his  knees  and  his  knees  way  down  in 
some  lonesome,  dark  and  narror  valley  where  prayer  is  much 
wanted  to  be  made.  'Noint  him  wid  de.kersene  ile  of  sal- 
vashum  and  set  him  on  fire." 

*  *  * 

In  many  sections  of  our  happy  land  this  past  summer 
there  has  been  a  great  deal  of  malarial  fever,  and  some  typho- 
malarial  fever,  but  rarely  did  it  assume  the  malignant  type. 
God  has  been  merciful.  Many  families  escaped  entirely,  and 
many  who  were  sick  are  convalescent.  One  of  our  popular 
physicians  has  been  quite  ill,  but  he  is  improving,  and  is  up 
and  doing.  If  I  were  asked  to  prescribe  for  him  I  would 
say,  "Doctor,  let  me  see  your  tongue.     Ah,  slightly  coated, 

192 


Ideas  and  Items. 

indicating  biliousness  and  malaria.  Here  is  your  prescrip- 
tion :  two  calomel  tablets  of  one  grain  each,  every  two  hours 
until  you  have  taken  six.  Five  hours  after  the  last  dose,  take 
one  heaping  teaspoonful  of  castor  oil,  with  four  drops  of 
tui-pentine.  Twelve  hours  after  the  last  oil  dose,  take  another 
full  teaspoonful  of  castor  oil  without  the  turpentine.  The 
most  effective  remedies,  doctor,  are  the  simplest.  Castor  oil  is 
the  king  of  oils.  There  is  nothing  in  the  world  more  unpleas- 
ant and  nauseating  to  the  mouth  and  palate  as  this  same 
castor  oil,  and  nothing  more  agreeable  to  the  internals  of 
man,  nor  more  heartily  and  more  enthusiastically  welcomed  in 
their  midst  than  oil,  the  old-time  castor  oil."  If  he'd  take  it 
I'd  cure  him. 

If  people  generally  would  swallow  more  oil  there  would  be 
less  trouble  in  the  land,  and  untimely  deaths  and  bereavements, 
and  funerals.  Appendicitis  is  a  modem  trouble  of  the  flesh 
that's  encouraged  because  oil  is  not  used.  And  it  is  almost 
becoming  fashionable  to  have  a  case  of  it.  To  be  stretched 
out  on  a  long  table  in  an  operating  room,  to  be  made  insensi- 
ble by  use  of  chloroform,  and  to  have  sharp-nosed,  spectacled 
doctors,  with  their  imported  knives  of  finest  steel  making 
incisions,  hunting  for  the  appendix — I  say  it  is  getting  too 
common,  and  too  commonly  fatal.  Whenever  a  fellow  goes 
to  that  operating  room,  and  is  placed  upon  that  operating 
table  to  be  operated  on  for  appendicitis,  I  look  upon  him  as 
being  about  nine-tenths  dead.  Many  a  poor  patient  has  been 
thus  most  skillfully  operated  on  and  most  skillfully  and  scien- 
tifically placed  in  his  coffin.  So,  therefore,  reader,  whenever 
you  have  a  pain  in  the  right  side,  go  to  taking  oil.  You  may 
have  appendicitis,  but  take  oil  rather  than  steel.  Everybody 
has  an  appendix.  Adam,  I  am  fully  persuaded,  had  it — but 
the  Lord  has  given  us  oil. 

*   *  * 

The  current  of  past  associations,  habits,  depravity  of  mind 
bear  the  poor  sinner  on  downward  to  ruin.      In  course  of  time 

193 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

rescue  from  sin  is  rare.  \  isitations  from  God  are  in  vain. 
Afflictions  and  sorrows  fail  to  be  means  of  liis  redemption  from 
vice  and  the  devil. 

One  calm  spring  day  some  years  ago,  I  remember  well,  a 
sweet  motherless  girl,  hardly  yet  out  of  the  teens,  lay  upon 
the  dying  pillow.  She  had  not  many  moments  to  live,  she 
knew,  and  confessed  it,  but  such  a  cahuness  of  soul  and 
serenity  of  spirit  I  had  never  seen  before.  Her  last  words 
to  the  sad  group  around  her  bedside  were  so  tender  and  touch- 
ing. She  thanked  the  kind  physician  for  his  unremitting 
attention  during  her  long  ilhiess  and  bade  her  weeping 
friends  around  her  couch  a  sad  farewell.  Then  she  turned 
to  her  father,  who  sat  tearful  near  her,  and,  with  her  pale 
little  hand  in  his,  begged  him  to  be  a  good  man  and  meet  her 
and  mamma  in  heaven,  "won't  you,  papa?" 

Everybody  thought  that  the  death  of  the  daughter  would 
change  the  heart  and  life  of  the  father,  but  the  flowers  had 
hardly  faded  over  her  grave  before  he  drifted  into  the  ways 
of  sin  again,  to  his  wallowing  in  the  mire. 

*   *   * 

Now  and  then  a  Methodist  preacher,  as  we  read  in  the 
history  of  the  Church,  gets  the  mule  in  him  somehow,  attacks 
authorities  that  be,  kicks  violently  against  imaginary 
"tyranny,"  and  after  causing  quite  a  stir  and  sensation  with- 
draws, or  is  excommunicated.  Brother  Alex.  Kilham  brought 
about  some  excitement  among  the  people  called  Methodists  in 
the  year  1796.  He  issued  pamphlets  on  "Progress  of  Lib- 
erty" and  another  called  "Methodistic  Bull."  He  published 
charges  involving  prominent  brethren  of  the  connection. 
Some  were  accused  of  wasting  the  public  money,  "swindling," 
and  secrecy  in  business.  They  were  accused  by  Brother  Kil- 
ham of  "tyranny,"  "admitting  preachers  from  selfish 
motives,"  and  "much  of  that  sort  of  thing."  His  charges 
against  the  preachers  were  pronounced  "unproved  and  slan- 

194 


Ideas  and  Items. 

derous."  He  was  adjudged  "unworthy  of  being  a  iiRMiiber  of 
the  Methodist  connection,"  and  his  name  was  struck  from  the 
rolh  In  the  course  of  human  events  O'Kelly  made  a  dash  for 
"liberty."  He  made  a  motion  that  a  preacher  discontented 
with  his  appointment  might  appeal  from  the  Bishop  to  the 
Conference,  and  if  the  Conference  sustain  him,  the  Bishop 
should  give  him  another  appointment.  O'Kelly  failed,  of 
course,  to  carry  his  point,  and  "he  and  his  friends  against 
much  entreaty  withdrew  from  the  Conference." 

O'Kelly  oi'ganized  a  sort  of  church,  but  the  institution  soon 
collapsed.  He  clamored  stoutly  against  "despotism"  until 
his  death  at  ninety-two.  Dr.  Hyde,  in  his  "Story  of  Meth- 
odism," makes  this  short  entry  with  reference  to  a  small 
schism  in  our  own  beloved  Conference:  "A  smaller  schism 
apparently  from  only  personal  ambition  was  made  by  one 
Hammett  in  Charleston.  He  was  eloquent  and  popular,  and 
his  followers  built  him  in  the  city  a  very  fine  church.  He 
denounced  Asbury  and  Coke  as  tyrants,  but  he  made  out  no 
case,  and  his  church  died  with  him."  Hammett's  voice  against 
"tyranny,"  O'Kelly's  "clamors,"  and  Kilham's  "Bulls"  all 
came  to  nought.  They  each  doubtless  gloried  in  their  oppo- 
sition and  imagined  their  strenuous  efforts  would  stop  the 
march  of  a  great  Church,  or  seriously  hinder  her  progress, 
but  the  wonderful  ecclesiastical  system,  born  of  heaven,  has 
made  such  wonderful  strides  as  a  Church  of  Christ  that  their 
antagonism  seem  the  more  insignificant,  and  a  charitable 
oblivion  has  covered  all  their  misdoings  and  misdeeds,  save  as 
mere  mention  in  the  historical  annals  of  Methodistic  triumphs. 


I  believe  in  the  baptism  of  children  with  all  my  heart.  I 
believe  that  fonn  of  dedication  of  the  child  to  God  accords 
with  the  mind  of  the  Master,  that  it  is  a  most  impressive  cere- 
mony, and  will  have  a  most  salutary  moral  effect  upon  the 
baptized  child  when  he  or  she  will  have  arrived  at  the  years  of 

195 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

discretion.  Some  years  ago,  one  morning  I  was  earnestly 
conversing,  discussing,  debating  with  an  old  man  who  had 
never  made  a  profession  of  religion,  with  reference  to  the 
salvation  of  his  soul.  I  urged  upon  him  the  duty — yea,  the 
necessity  of  confessing  Christ  before  men  and  uniting  with 
God's  people  ere  he  go  hence.  I  had  the  best  of  the  argu- 
ment, for  all  opposing  theories  and  objections  had  been 
silenced,  but  the  old  man  would  not  give  up  and  consent  to 
join  the  Church.  "Don't  you  tliink,"  said  I  to  the  feeble 
old  gentleman,  sitting  in  his  chimney  corner,  full  of  his  self- 
righteousness,  "don't  you  think  you  have  a  good,  true,  faith- 
ful wife?" 

He  replied:  "I  don't  think  anything  about  it;  I  know  I 
have." 

"Well,"  I  rejoined,  "she  has  made  this  profession  I  am  urg- 
ing you  to  make.  She  has  confessed  the  Saviour  you  have 
denied.  You  say  she  is  true  and  good — and  that  she  is.  If 
she  would  leave  this  old  home  tomorrow  for  some  other  place, 
deeming  it  wise  and  best,  you  no  doubt  would  follow  her,  would 
you  not.?" 

"Old  Man :  "Yes,  I  beheve  I  would." 

"Well,"  I  answered,  "she  is  on  her  way  to  the  better  world. 
She  has  already  made  preparations.  Will  you  not  prepare 
and  follow  on ?"  (Silence.)  "Again,  were  you  baptized  when 
you  were  a  baby  in  arms?" 

Old  Man:  "Yes,  sir." 

"What  did  they  do  that  for?     What  was  their  purpose?" 

Old  Man:  "Well,  it  was  custom." 

"No,"  I  replied,  "not  because  it  was  merely  custom,  but 
your  parents  were  interested  in  the  soul's  training  and  salva- 
tion of  their  child.  They  dedicated  their  baby  to  God  with 
heart's  desire  and  earnest  prayer  that  you  might  grow  in 
grace  and  favor  with  God,  and  become  a  confirmed  Christian. 
They  did  all  they  could  with  that  end  in  view.  And  now  will 
you  go  back  on  their  faith,  their  dedication,  their  prayers?" 

196 


Ideas  and  Items. 

The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  was  there  in  that  home  by  that  fire- 
side. The  old  man  hesitated,  but  after  awhile  he  stretched 
out  his  bony  hand  to  me,  saying:  "Here,  sir,  I  wish  to  join 
the  Church.  Help  me  become  a  Christian."  I  received  him 
in  the  Church  then  and  there,  and  when  I  left  him  late  in  the 
afternoon  he  was  rejoicing  and  shaking  hands  with  some  of 
his  old  servants,  telling  them  that  "their  old  master  had  made 
a  profession  of  religion"  and  he  wanted  "all  to  pray  for 
him."  It  was  a  beautiful  scene.  A  few  weeks  after  I 
administered  to  him  and  the  "time,  good  wife"  the  sacra- 
ment, and  less  than  a  year  he  passed  away — but  he  died 
in  the  faith.  One  important  agency  in  the  conversion  of  this 
man  was  the  fact  of  his  baptism  when  a  child. 


Q.   1.  What  is  society.? 

A.  A  union  of  fashionable  beings  united  for  the  purpose  of 
pleasure,  maintaining  caste,  and  upholding  fashion. 

2.  What's  the  admission  fee.? 
A.  Money  and  manners. 

3.  What  are  among  the  characteristics  of  the  society.? 
A.  The  jig  and  jug,  punch  and  poker. 

4.  Does  "society"  prevail  in  South  Carolina.? 

A.  No,  but  it's  coming.  Whatever  breaks  out  up  North, 
comes  South  in  course  of  time.  There  are  strong  symptoms 
of  it  in  Spartanburg,  Greenville  and  other  big  towns,  and  also 
in  Rock  Hill,  Chester  and  others. 

5.  Which  is  a  bigger  institution  where  society  prevails, 
the  society  or  the  Church.? 

A.  Society. 

6.  Why.? 

A.  Because  society  folks  can  transgi'ess  laws  of  Church 
with  their  fun  and  frolics  with  impunity;  not  a  hair  of  their 
immoral  heads  will  be  touched,  but  if  laws  of  society  are 
violated,  ostracism  is  the  result. 

197 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

7.  How  is  a  day  divided  in  society? 
A.  Into  morning  and  evening. 

8.  There  is  no  night  there,  then.^^ 

A.  No,  the  word  "night"  would  interfere  with  the  sense  of 
the  term  of  fashion,  "evening."  For  instance,  it  would 
offend  the  ear  of  society  to  say :  "Mr.  Brockton  appeared  at 
the  ball  in  full  night  dress."  It  would  be  all  right,  you  see, 
to  say,  "he  appeared  in  full  evening  dress." 

9.  Is  punctuality  a  rule  in  society.? 

A.  Oh,  no.  It  is  fashionable  to  be  a  little  late  at  society 
gatherings.  It  is  unpopular  to  be  in  a  hurry,  "on  a  rush," 
and  considered  vulgar  to  be  in  haste. 


As  a  general  rule,  according  to  the  calling  and  conduct  of 
many  professional  mortals,  when  a  rich  old  sinner  suddenly 
shuffles  off,  the  doctor  says :  "There  was  a  total  and  perma- 
nent cessation  of  all  his  vital  functions,  when  the  organs  not 
only  ceased  to  act,  but  lost  the  susceptibility  of  renewed 
action.  He  is  a  dead  man,  but  his  bill  will  be  paid."  The 
lawyer:  "He  died  solvent,  besides  his  insurance.  The  busi- 
ness of  the  estate  can  be  wound  up  nicely."  The  undertaker, 
with  an  outward  solemnity  that  has  become  habitual:  "A  job ! 
a  job!  thank  the  Lawd."  The  preacher  at  the  funeral, 
f uneralizing :  "Our  deceased  brother,  who  was  taken  from  us 
so  suddenly,  was  indeed  a  man  of  affairs,  and,  Hke  Abraham 
of  old,  he  was  rich.  He  was  not  in  all  things  as  we  would 
like  to  have  seen  and  known  him,  but  God  is  merciful,  and 
likely  just  as  he  fell  in  death,  before  life  was  extinct,  the  peni- 
tent's prayer  was  heard.  (Tears  from  the  relatives  flowing, 
the  preacher's  voice  more  Gospel-tone  growing.)  He  was  a 
long  time  member  of  the  Church,  and  the  Church  paper  was 
ever  on  his  centre  table.  Therefore  we  weep,  but  not  without 
hope.  (Tears.)  My  faith  at  this  moment  looks  up  and 
says:  'Yes,  yes,  God  is  good,  our  deceased  brother  is  safely 

198 


Ideas  and  Items. 

landed  on  the  other  shore'  "  (Lamentations.)  The  monu- 
ment says:  "Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord.  Let 
me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let  my  last  end  be 
like  His." 

The  Bible  says :  "The  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die."  "Not 
every  one  that  sayeth  unto  ]\Ie,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  IVIy 
Father,  which  is  in  heaven."     "By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 

them." 

Away  with  all  this  toipbstone  theology.  As  a  man  lives, 
so  he  is  when  he  dies.  If  he  live  the  regenerated  life,  all's 
well  with  his  soul;  if  he  die  unsanctified,  he  will  go  to  hell. 
How  readest  thou? 

*       -*       ^i 

There  is  some  truth,  may  be,  in  the  following  clipping : 
A  Dutchman,  addressing  his  dog,  said :  "INIy  dog,  you  have 
a  schnapp.  You  vas  only  a  dog  and  I  vas  a  man ;  but  I  vish 
I  vas  you.  You  efFry  haf  the  best  of  it.  Ven  you  go  mid 
the  bed  in  you  shust  durn  round  tree  times  and  lay  down. 
Ven  I  go  mid  the  bed  in  I  haf  to  lock  up  de  place  und  vind  up 
the  clock,  und  put  the  cat  oud  und  undress  minself,  und  my 
vif e  vakes  up  und  scoles  me ;  den  de  baby  cries  und  I  haf  to 
vawk  him  up  und  down ;  den  maybe  ven  I  shust  go  to  schleep 
it's  time  to  get  oup  again.  Ven  you  get  up  you  stretch  your- 
self and  scratch  a  cuple  of  times  und  you  vas  up.  I  haf  to 
light  the  fire  und  put  on  the  kettle,  scrap  some  mid  my  vife 
already  und  maybe  I  get  some  breakfast.  You  play  around 
all  day  und  half  plenty  of  fun.  I  haf  to  vork  all  day  und 
haf  plenty  of  trouble.  Ven  you  die  you's  dead.  Ven  I  die  I 
haf  to  go  to  hell  yet." 

*  *  * 

The  President  of  the  United  States  originated  a  phrase  that 
has  become  quite  popular  and  used  by  many  writers  and 
speakers— except,  I  believe,  by  our  gubernatorial  candidates 

199 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

(get  them  off  the  "Hcker"  question  and  they  are  lost).  The 
phrase  is:  "The  strenuous  Hfe."  The  Methodist  Discipline 
inculcated  that  idea  long  before  the  President's  ancestors 
were  heard  of:  ^' Never  he  unemployed;  never  he  trvjiingly 
employed.''  The  latter  clause  is  far  preferable  than  even  the 
"strenuous  hfe."  A  man  can  be  "strenuous"  in  doing  deeds 
of  folly — in  "beating  the  air,"  in  eccentric  foolishness.  The 
Discipline's  strenuous  expression  is  the  best,  and  blessed  is  the 
preacher  or  the  layman  who  is  so  governed  and  ever  heeds  the 
injunction,  "Never  be  unemploye4;  never  be  triflingly  em- 
ployed." 


Died,  rather  suddenly,  in  Springfield,  not  long  ago,  old 
"Mitty,"  a  respectable  hen,  at  rather  an  advanced  age.  Born 
in  '93,  she  would  have  been  about  eight  years  old  at  her 
next  birthday.  She  broke  the  shell  and  saw  first  the  light  of 
chicken  world  near  Cuba,  S.  C,  and  scratched  and  labored  one 
year  on  the  Lamar  Circuit.  Two  years  on  the  South  Branch- 
ville  work,  two  years  at  Woodford,  and  she  finished  her  course 
in  Springfield.  Old  Mitty  was  game,  industrious  and  faith- 
ful. She  would  hold  to  her  nest  in  sumemr's  heat  and  win- 
ter's cold,  never  deserting  her  post.  She  would  hover  the 
chicks  'midst  most  imminent  dangers,  or  fiercest  storms  of 
wind  and  rain,  never  leaving  nor  forsaking  them  for  her  own 
personal  comfort  or  safety.  Her  sacrifice  for  her  offspring, 
often  a  numerous  brood,  was  wonderful.  The  poor  thing 
coming  off  her  nest  in  August  would  be  sometimes  so  poor, 
pale  and  puny,  yet  she'd  scratch  and  almost  fall  with  the 
effort  to  obtain  worms  and  soft  buried  seed  for  her  chicks, 
even  denying  herself  of  every  crumb  and  sweet  morsel. 

Unselfish  devotion  to  God-imposed  duties  is  always  sub- 
lime, and  Old  Mitty  in  great  qualities  was  superior,  I  fear,  to 
many  mortals  here  below.  "She  did  what  she  could." 
(1901.) 


200 


Ideas  and  Items. 

Woman  is  rather  strangely  ecclesiastically  constituted. 
She  can  be  a  superintendent  of  a  Sunday  school,  but  is  not 
permitted  to  belong  to  Quarterly  Conference,  nor  other  sort 
of  Conference.  She  is  still  confined  to  a  circumscribed  sphere 
as  to  vote  and  voice.  But  her  day  is  coming.  Maybe  we  will 
see  her  sitting  in  Conference  as  a  delegate  and  hear  the  rustle 
of  her  skirts  in  the  council  rooms  of  the  Church  within  a 
decade.  Oh,  I  believe  she  is  coming,  making  headway  now  for 
pulpit  and  platform,  and  we  must  all  get  ready  to  bow  in 
humble  submission  to  the  mysterious  ways  of  Providence. 

*  *   * 

A  few  days  ago,  on  my  way  to  church,  near  the  cabin 
home  by  the  wayside,  I  noticed  a  colored  woman  washing 
clothes,  and  a  dead  shoat  just  killed  lying  on  the  ground  near 
her.  "That's  what  temper  done,"  said  she  to  me  as  I  was 
passing.  "My  ole  man  got  mad  because  the  pig  got  out  of 
the  lot  and  he  couldn't  get  it  back,  and  he  shot  it,"  and  she 
was  much  annoyed  on  account  of  the  result  of  an  ungodly 
temper.  I  saw  a  white  man  in  Lamar  once  who  did  worse 
than  this  colored  man.  His  old  ox  ran  away  with  him,  and 
when  finally  stopped  he  was  so  infuriated  that  he,  not  having 
a  stone  or  stick,  did  actually  bite  that  overhanging  lip  of  the 
ox  furiously. 

*  *  * 

I  met  a  venerable  preacher  some  time  ago  whose  early  life 
was  somewhat  tinged  with  the  romantic.  He  fell  in  love  once 
with  a  sweet  young  lass  of  twelve,  about  his  own  age.  One 
day,  sitting  in  the  school  room,  thinking  more  of  love  than 
of  lore,  he  wrote  her  name  on  his  left  arm  with  pen  and  ink  of 
an  indelible  sort,  and  drew  a  picture  of  the  emblem  of  hope 
just  above  the  name.  He  bared  the  arm,  and  I  read  the 
inscription  written  a  long  time  before  I  was  bom.  The  little 
girl  died  ere  she  reached  maturity,  but  her  name  lives  in 
indelible  characters  upon  the  arm  of  her  once  youthful  lover. 

201 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 
t 

Sweet  talisman,  in  keeping  with  a  tender  heart  that  treasures 

her  memory  and  loves  yet  the  true,  the  beautiful  and  the  good. 


A  good  friend  the  other  day  said  that  all  his  family  and 
relatives,  wuth  reference  to  Church  faith  and  doctrine,  were 
all  right  and  orthodox,  except  one  good  brother  who  had 
recently  become  a  member  of  the  Boomerang  Church.  He 
was  much  distressed  on  that  account,  that  a  brother  who  had 
such  sensible  and  pious  parents  should  have  a  son  that  would 
go  back  on  their  teaching  and  training  to  the  extent  of  becom- 
ing a  disciple  of  the  Boomerang  Church.  Exceptions  to  all 
rules  must  be  expected.  Orthodox  parents  should  have  chil- 
dren of  like  mind  and  pattern,  and  if  you  train  up  a  child  in 
the  way  he  should  go,  in  after  years  he  should  not  depart 
from  it. 

But  now  and  then,  among  the  best,  a  black  sheep  will  occur. 
Now  and  then  the  once  hopeful  boy  will  stray  from  the  old 
paths.  It  may  be  because  of  a  reversion  to  type.  The  spirit 
of  some  grandparent  who  flourished  in  the  days  of  the  simple 
life,  descends  like  sin  to  the  scion  of  the  present  generation, 
and  makes  him  a  runt— or  else  its  simpl}^  perversity,  or  a 
sort  of  insanity.  It  may  not  be  this  nor  that,  it  may  be  by 
petticoat  persuasion.  If  a  well  raised  boy  marry  a  female 
brought  up  in  a  Boomerang  atmosphere  it's  fearfull}^  prob- 
able he  will  become  a  Boomerang  too,  and  in  course  of  human 
events — mercy  on  us — there  will  be  a  family,  maybe  num- 
erically large,  upon  the  face  of  the  earth — and  all 
Boomerangs. 

*  *  *  ^ 

"But  David  tarried  still  at  Jerusalem," — That  proved  to 
be  a  most  disastrous  vacation.  When  David  quit  the  field  of 
action  and  luxuriated  in  the  cooling  hours  of  leisure,  he  was 
overcome  by  temptation,  and  embarrassed  the  moral  status 
of   the    Church    alarmingly.     There   is    religious    health   in 

202 


Beside  the  Couch  of  the  Dying  Itinerant. 

steady  work,  and  salvation  in  tedious  toil.  It  Is  dang^erous 
for  a  man  with  a  good  circulation  and  hearty  heart  action 
to  have  idle  hands.  In  the  majority  of  instances  he  will 
become  a  maker  of  mischief,  or  his  leisure  will  lead  to  lewdness. 
The  grace  of  God,  that's  startling  in  often  effectual  trans- 
formation of  depraved  nature,  can't  do  much  with  the  goat  in 
man,  if  permitted  to  graze  too  long  in  pastures  that  are  green. 
Were  there  more  perspiration,  less  sin  would  prevail.  The 
ready  rascal  is  generally  the  mortal  who  failed  to  finish  his 
task.  Blessed  is  the  man  who,  sunburnt  and  brown  from  hon- 
est toil,  labors  earl}'  and  late  in  his  chosen  field  of  work,  heart 
within,  God  overhead. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Beside  the  Couch  of  the  Dying  Itinerant — South  Carolina 

Conference. 

I  have  been  a  member  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference 
for  about  eighteen  years,  and  since  my  first  j^ear  many  have 
passed  away.  All  died  calmly,  in  the  full  assurance  of  faith ; 
some  on  the  dying  bed  gave  expression  of  triumph,  or  of  the 
glor}"^  beyond  and  of  their  indifference  to  the  fast  approach  of 
death.     Our  preachers  die  well. 

William  Martin,  January  10,  1889 — A  day  or  two  before 
his  death  he  said :  "Oh,  what  a  sweet  season  of  peace.  I  have 
had  such  nearness  to  God.  He  has  made  my  way  clear  and 
shining  up  to  Him."  At  the  last  moment,  he  whispered, 
"What  wonderful  calm !" 

John  Emory  Watson,  June  11,  1889 — "Tell  my  brethren 
of  the  Conference,  I  die  at  my  post.     Meet  me  in  heaven." 

E.  J.  Meynardie,  July  1,  1890— "If  it  please  God,  I  want 
to  die  in  my  boots. 

203 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 

John  Wesley  Murray,  December  2,  1891 — "What  will  my 
poor  wife  do?" 

Landy  Wood,  September  5,  1892 — Before  he  became  un- 
conscious, his  wife  said  to  him,  "How  is  it,  now?"  "I  am 
crossing  over  the  river,"  he  replied,  "but  all  is  well — '* 

William  Thomas,  December  1,  1890 — "Since  I  have  found 
Jesus,  I  have  lived  and  preached  the  Gospel." 

Whitefoord  Smith,  April  27,  1893— He  requested  that 
Toplady's  hymn,  "The  Dying  Christian  to  His  Soul,"  be 
recited  to  him  just  before  he  breathed  his  last. 

William  H.  Lawton,  November  3,  1893 — "I  know  in  whom 
I  have  believed — " 

John  B.  Piatt,  January  17,  1893 — "I  will  see  you  over  the 
river." 

John  W.  McRoy,  August  6,  1893 — "Since  I  have  been 
confined  to  this  room  I  have  carefully  examined  again  all  the 
foundations  of  my  salvation,  and  it  is  all  right." 

Sam'l  B.  Jones,  September  8,  1894 — "It  is  just  as  God 
wills ;  I  would  not  turn  my  hand  to  decide.  *  *  *  It  is  all  well ; 
I  know  Whom  I  have  believed  and  am  persuaded  that  He  is 
able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto  Him  against 
that  day." 

W.  D.  Kirkland,  May  31,  1896— "Lord,  if  I  may  work  for 
Thee,  let  me  live  and  give  me  strength  for  service ;  if  not,  take 
me  home  and  let  me  rest." 

Henry  M.  Mood,  May  2,  1897— "God's  will  be  done." 

J.  Walter  Dickson,  July  14,  1898 — "I  have  examined  the 
foundation,  and  it  is  all  right." 

William  B.  Verdin,  July  22,  1899— "You  do  not  know  how 
tired  I  am.     I  long  to  fall  asleep  in  the  arms  of  Jesus." 

204 


Beside  the  Couch  of  the  Dying  Itinerant. 

M.  M.  Pooser,  April  11,  1900— "Oh,  glory!" 

Sidi  H.  Browne,  September  13,  1900 — "I  am  ready  to  go, 
and  I  am  only  waiting  to  be  called  home.  I  can  say,  with  St. 
Paul,  'To  me  to  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain.'  " 

Paul  F.  Kistler,  July  13,  1901— "It's  no  use  trying  to  hide 
it,  paralysis  is  coming  on.  I  am  not  for  this  world  much 
longer.     I'll  soon  be  at  rest." 

Frederick  Auld,  February  13,  1902 — "I  scarcely  know 
whether  to  cry  out  with  this  awful  pain  or  shout  for  joy  with 
the  glory  that  fills  my  soul.  *  *  *  The  precious  Saviour  is  so 
near  that  He  seems  almost  a  visible  presence." 

James  Smiley  Porter,  April  11,  1902 — "There  is  not  a 
cloud;  everything  is  as  clear  as  sunlight." 

Lewis  M.  Hamer,  April  22,  1902 — "It  is  all  right  with  me, 
sir ;  it  is  all  right.  Tell  my  brethren  of  the  Conference,  it  is 
all  right  with  me." 

J.  Thomas  Pate,  May  8,  1902— "All  is  bright  beyond." 

Louis  Charles  Loyal,  November  7,  1902 — "I  would  like  to 
answer  to  roll-call  at  Conference  once  more."  Just  before 
the  last  gasp,  he  cried  out,  "Here !" 

John  Attaway,  July  14,  1903 — "Are  you  ready.?"  some 
one  asked  him.     "Yes,  for  the  last  forty  years." 

James  E.  Grier,  October  3,  1903 — "In  all  of  this  experi- 
ence I  see  the  hand  of  a  special  Providence.  I  do  not  know 
when  He  will  land  Me." 

A.  J.  Stokes,  April  13,  1906 — "I  may  not  live  much 
longer;  nature  has  lifted  her  danger  signal.  I  may  pass 
away  at  any  time — I  am  ready  to  work  on — I  am  willing  to 
go  at  any  time." 

Benj.  Marion  Grier,  September  22,  1907— "I  am  leaning 
on  the  Everlasting  Ann." 

205 


The  Circuit  Rider's  Sketch  Book. 


IF  I  SHOULD  DIE  TONIGHT! 


[The  following  lines  were  found  on  the  study  table  of  the  late  Dr. 
Noyes,  a  well  known  minister  of  Illinois.  The  pathetic  poem  will  strike 
a  sympathetic  chord  in  the  heart  of  many  a  weary  toiler:] 

If  I  should  die  tonight, 
My  friends  would  look  upon  my  quiet  face, 
Before  they  laid  it  in  its  resting  place, 
And  deem  that  death  has  left  it  almost  fair ; 
And  laying  snow-white  flowers  against  my  hair. 
Would  smooth  it  down  with  cheerful  tenderness, 
And  fold  my  hands  with  lingering  caress- 
Poor  hands,  so  empty  and  so  cold  tonight ! 

If  I  should  die  tonight. 
My  friends  would  call  to  mind  with  loving  thought. 
Some  kindly  deeds  the  icy  hands  had  wrought. 
Some  gentle  words  the  frozen  lips  had  said. 
Errands  on  which  the  willing  feet  had  sped; 
The  memory  of  my  selfishness  and  pride. 
My  hasty  words,  would  all  be  put  aside; 

And  so  I  should  be  loved  and  mourned  tonight ! 

If  I  should  die  tonight, 
E'en  hearts  estranged  would  turn  once  more  to  me, 
Recalling  other  days  remorsefully ; 
The  eyes  that  chill  me  with  averted  glance 
Would  look  upon  me  as  of  yore,  perchance. 
And  soften  in  the  old  familiar  way, 
(For  who  could  war  with  dumb,  unconscious  clay.-^) 
So  I  might  rest  forgiven  of  all  tonight ! 


206 


If  I  Should  Die  Tonight. 

O  friends,  I  pray  tonight, 
Keep  not  your  kisses  for  my  dead  cold  brow ; 
The  way  is  lonely,  let  me  feel  them  now. 
Think  gently  of  me ;  I  am  travel  worn ; 
My  faltering  feet  are  pierced  with  many  a  thorn ; 
Forgive,  O  hearts  estranged,  forgive,  I  plead! 
When  dreamless  rest  is  mine,  I  shall  not  need 
The  tenderness  for  which  I  long  tonight. 


THE  END. 


207 


ADVERTISEMENTS 


Advertisements. 


Columhia    College 


^<HIS  institution  has  been  pro- 
^^  jected  for  the  highest  devel- 
opment of  Christian  womanhood. 
The  buildings  are  large, imposing, 
comfortable  and  conveniently  ar- 
ranged. The  location  is  ideal  for 
health  and  study. 

There  is  a  bountiful  supply  of 
purest  water.  The  sanitation  is 
as  perfect  as  can  be  made. 

A  large  and  competent  faculty. 
Every  department  is  under  the 
care  of  an  efficient  and  exper- 
ienced teacher.  Unusual  advan- 
tages are  offered  in  Music,  Art, 
Expression,  Languages  and  Busi- 
ness. 

For  catalogue  and  further  in- 
formation, address 


W.   W.  DANIEL.  President 

Columhia  College 

Columhia,  S.  C, 

210 


Advertisements. 


A   SCHOOL    OF   MERIT 


Muffurii 
1 1  p  g  p 


Olarltsb  Jitting  Bt\]aaitl 

Bamberg,  South  Carolina 

A  high  grade,  conservative  school  for  boys  and 
girls.  Military  discipline.  Uniform  dress  for  both 
sexes,  reducing  cost  of  this  item  to  a  minimum. 
Excellent  boarding  departments.  Artesian  water 
in  all  buildings.  Remarkably  good  health  record. 
Departments  of  Latin,  Greek,  French,  Mathe- 
matics, Science,  English,  History  and  Civics, 
Music  and  Elocution.  Individual  attention.  Lit- 
erary societies.  Library.  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Athletics. 
For  catalog  and  information  write  the  head  master, 

W.   S.   HOGAN. 

The  Murray  Drug  Co. 


COLUMBIA,    SOUTH    CAROLINA 

THE    LARGEST    DRUG    HOUSE    IN    THE    SOUTH 

211 


Advertisements. 

'*A  LITTLE  HIGHER  IN  PRICE,  BUT— ^' 

That  line  expresses  the  whole  situation 
in  a  not  shell 

"Rock  Hill"  Buggies 

are  the  standard  vehicle  of  the  South.   Sold  by  agents 

in  every  important  town.  See  them  for  prices 

or  write  direct  to  the  undersigned 

I  refer  to  any  Methodist  preacher  in  the  Sooth  Carolina  Conference 

J.  G.  ANDERSON,  President 
ROCK  HILL  BUGGY  CO.,  Rock  Hill,  S.  C. 


THE  quality  of  our  Printing  is   as  distinctive  as 
it  is  swperior.      Let  us  blend  your  ideas  with 
our  meclianism  and   sbow  you   now   DeautiTul 
tke  finished  article   appears      :::::::: 


The  R.  L.  Bryan 


c 


iriTVI-nO-n-^T      ^^SONIC    BUILDING 

Ullipctll^/^      COLUMBIA,    S.    C. 


Originators      ::      Publishers       ::       General  Printers 
Jylanufacturing    Stationers       ::       Booksellers 


212 


Advertisements. 


SPARTANBURG,  S.  C. 


HENRY  NELSON  SNYDER,  M.  A.,  Litt.  D..  LL.  D. 
PRESIDENT 


Xen  Departments.  Gynasium  under  competent  director. 
Atnletic  Grounds.  Library  and  Librarian.  Science  Hall. 
Fiity-iourtn  year  began  September  18,  1907.  For  cata- 
logue address 

J.  A.  GAMEWELL,  Secretary. 


mt^'^P 


DO  OUR  PAINTS  STAY  ON? 

It  s  because  we  make  them  ourselves 
at  our  Factory,  trom  carerully 
selected  materials,  especially  to  suit 

our  o"wn   Soutnem  climate.      Tbererore,    they  do  not  fade, 

cbalk  or  peal  off — tney  do  stay  on! 


INVESTIGATE! 


Leland  Moore  Paint  and  Oil  Co. 

THE  PAINT  PEOPLE 
211-213   East  Bay  -  Ckarleston,   S.    C. 


213 


Advertisements. 


Lander  College 

One  of  Our  Conference 
Colleges 

d  Pursues  its  fixed  ideals: 

{[  Of  modest  claims  and  large  fulfillments. 

C  Of  thorough  college-work  and  continual  reviews  of  elementary  studies. 

([Of  building  womanly  character. 

C  Of  pointing  to  Christ  as  highest  Teacher  and  shunning  all  that  does 
not  honor  Him. 

(T  Commodious  new  buildings,  steam-heated,  electric  lights  and  all  mod- 
ern conveniences. 

C  Competent  Faculty,  home-like  oversight,  experienced  physician  and 
every  attention  needed. 

d  Good  and  wholesome  food,  well  prepared. 

d  Cost  as  low  as  any  first-class  institution. 

([  Fall  Opening  September  18,  1907.  Second  Section  begins  October  23, 
190T.  Third  Section,  November  27,  1907.  Fourth  Section,  January  14, 
1908.  Fifth  Section,  February  18,  1908.  Sixth  Section,  March  24,  1908. 
Seventh  Section,  April  28,  1908.     Commencement,  May  31-June  2,  1908. 

Send  for  Catalogue. 

JOHN  O.  WILLSON,  Greenwood,  S.  C. 


Wofford  College  Fitting  School 

Three  new  brick  buildings.  Steam  heat  and  electric  lights.  Head 
Master,  three  Teachers  and  Matron  live  in  the  buildings.  Individual 
attention  to  each  student.     Situated  on  the  Wofford  Campus. 

Students  take  a  regular  course  in  the  College  Gjinnasium,  and  have 
access  to  the  College  Library.  $125.00  pays  for  Board,  Tuition  and  all 
Fees.     Sons  of  Methodist  ministers  do  not  pay  tuition. 

Next  session  begins   September   18th.     For  Catalogue,  etc.,  address 

,  A.  MASON  DuPRE,  Head  Master, 

Spartanburg,  S.  C. 

214 


Notes  and  Personals. 


NOTES  AND  PERSONALS. 

WorFORD  College  this  year  has  dangerously  near,  if  not 
quite,  500  students — too  many  for  the  men,  money  and  means 
of  the  grand  old  institution.  When  will  prosperous  Metho- 
dist laymen  awake  and  shell  out?  If  we  had  one  or  two  North 
Carolina  Dukes  an  endowment  would  soon  be  realized.  I  am 
of  the  opinion  that  in  our  colleges  for  boys  and  young  gentle- 
men there  should  be  unifonnity  of  dress.  Otherwise,  dudism 
will  prevail,  more  or  less,  and  there  will  be  cranks  on  cravats 
and  cassimeres,  pants  and  panamas.  A  ten-dollar  suit 
should  do  for  a  soph.,  but  he  wants  a  thirty-dollar  outfit,  and 
wants  to  be  geared  in  new  garments  every  season.  The  Car- 
lisle Fitting  School  has  adopted  a  uniform  for  the  boys. 
Wofford  should  do  something  to  counteract  the  rivalry  in 

dress. 

*  *■  * 

OuB,  Colleges  for  Women  are  prospering ;  standard  high 
especially  at  our  Columbia  College — raised  recently.  The 
young  woman,  with  all  of  her  classical  tutoring  and  training, 
should  be  brought  up  and  educated  for  the  home — and  taught 
to  do  practical  things  pertaining  to  home  life  and  household 
work.  That  is  her  destiny  if  she  gets  married,  and  if  she 
fails  to  be  won  there  will  be  a  sad,  disappointed  heart.  What 
Columbia  College  or  Lander  sweet-girl  graduate  wants  to  live 
the  monotonous  life  of  the  old  maid.-^  She,  the  female  college 
student,  should  be  taught  the  science  of  cooking  and  the  art 
of  housekeeping.  No  prizes  in  our  colleges,  unfortunately, 
are  awarded  to  the  girls  who  can  bake  the  best  bread.  My 
idea  of  the  first  lady  of  a  home  is  not  a  lover  or  writer  of 
fiction  and  poetry,  or  a  platform  star,  but  one  who  can  pre- 
side skillfully  and  intelligently  in  the  kitchen  and  over  the 

cradle. 

*  »  * 

The  Rock  Hill  Buggy  Co.  has  a  disjunctive  conjunction 
that  has  achieved  success :  "A  little  higher  in  price,  but " 

215 


Notes  and  Personals. 


It  has  been  a  most  fortunate  "But "     Jno.  G.  Anderson, 

who  runs  the  business,  a  few  years  ago  was  a  workman,  but 
he  chmbed  higher.  He  was  in  course  of  time  made  manager, 
but  he  went  higher  still  and  today  he  is  president  of  the 
company. 

*   *   * 

The  R.  L.  Bryan  Co.,  publishers  of  the  Circuit  Rider's 
Sketch  Book,  is  an  old  concern — true  and  tried.  The  senior 
Bryan,  and  founder,  Richard  L.,  departed  this  life  and 
handled  his  last  copy  in  1900.  A  son,  R.  B.  Bryan;  a 
nephew,  T.  S.  Bryan ;  G.  A.  Selby  and  Jno.  T.  McCaw  man- 
age now  the  large  establishment,  and  they  are  meeting  with 
the  success  that  their  skill,  business  tact  and  Christian  courtesy 

deserve.     They  are  also  a  "little  higher  in  price,  but " 

To  use  their  own  words:  "At  a  price  that  is  just  a  Httle  in 
excess  of  the  shoddy  kind." 


The  Murray  Drug  Co.,  of  Columbia,  S.  C,  is  the  largest 
drug  establishment  in  this  big  South.  They  receive  car  loads 
of  pills,  plasters  and  panaceas  for  suffering  mortals,  and  no 
doubt  have  and  keep  on  hand  "rivers  of  oil."  A  drug  store 
wisely  managed  is  a  rehgious  institution.  They  contain  cura- 
tive compound  cathartics  for  bad  livers — and  that's  what 
makes  most  rascals — the  torpid  liver. 


"Music  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast." 

The  Cable  Company,  of  Charleston,  besides  their  organs 
and  pianos,  purpose  to  do  some  soothing  with  their  Edison 
phonograph.  Who  is  it  that  is  not  charmed  by  the  tuneful 
melodies  that  issue  from  that  marvelous  instrument.''  The 
Cable  Company  is  a  house  of  harmony — of  wide,  extending 
fame. 

216 


Advertisements. 


IN  GOOD  COMPANY 

Is  the  man  with  an 
Edison  Phonograph, 
In  the  comfort  of  his 
home^  with  an  easy- 
chair  and  pipe,  he  has 
the  music  of  the  world 
at  his  command. 

Whether  his  pref- 
erence be  classical,  op- 
eratic, sacred,  or  rag- 
time music,  the  Phon- 
ograph  supplies  it. 
The  Phonograph  keeps  him  familiar  with  the  popular 
airs  of  the  day. 

If  you  doubt  the  advantages  of  the  Edison  Phono- 
graph as  a  means  of  entertaining  you,  call  at  our  store 
or  write  for  information* 

We  sell  and  guarantee  Mason  &  Hamlin,  Conover, 
Cable,  Kingsbury  and  Wellington  Pianos,  and  the  fa- 
mous Inner  Player  Pianos,  the  most  complete  musical 
instrument  made.  Send  for  art  catalogue  and  easy 
payment  plan  of  buying. 


IN  GOOD 

COMPANY 


THE  CABLE  COMPANY 

EVERYTHING  KNOWN   IN    MUSIC 

Phone  420        ^        .3t        ^        J.  V.  WALLACE,  Manager 
CABLE  BUILDING       ^       >       CHARLESTON,  S.  C. 

217 


Advertisements. 


I » i^iij I  ' 

^CV^. .  \TAILODI/tG  Co./ / 

1.'  \  CHICAGO 


We 

Believe 
In 

the  International 

System  of  Made- 

To-Measure  Tai- 

loring  and  we 

want  you  to   do 

the  same.    For 

Clothes   Value,    Style   Correctness  and    Square    Dealing  we 

cannot  too  strongly  commend  them.     A  visit  to  this  address 

will    convince   you   of  their  ability    to    satisfy   you  in   all 

respects — in  Price,  in  Fabric  and  Style  Variety.     Nearly  500 

Samples   to   choose   from,  all-up-to-the-minute   and  nobby. 

P.  F.  WEST  COMPANY 


EUTAWVILLE 


^ 


SOUTH  CAROLINA 


Also  Dealer  in  Dry  Goods,  Groceries,  Shoes,  Hats,  Farm- 
ing Implements,  Etc.  We  believe  in  Large  Sales  and 
Small  Profits 


218 


Advertisements. 


DO    YOU    KNOW    OF 

ACETYLENE? 


It's  the  light  for  churches,  halls, 
stores,  residences  and  streets.  A 
beautiful  white  light,  free  from 
odor  or  smoke,  and  with  just  the 
smallest  amount  of  heat.  Inex- 
pensive and  reliable. 
Caldwell  Hotel,  Columbia,  S.  C, 
uses  it,  so  do  Senators  Tillman 
and  Latimer.  Write  me  for  esti- 
mate on  complete  plant,  stating 
Size  of  your  building. 


STATE 
AGENT  FOR 


OTIS    BRABHAM 

Hercviles  GerversLtors 

ALLENDALE.  SOUTH  CAROLINA 

IHB  LARGEST  TRUCK  FARM 
IN  THE  WORLD 

Cabbage  Plants,  Lettuce  Plants,  Celery  Plants, 
Onion  Plants,  Plants  of  all  Kinds 

These  plants  raised  in  the  OPEN  AIR,  on  the  Sea  Islands,  surrounded 
by  salt  water.  The  chemical  ingredients  of  these  vegetables  show  the  wise 
provision  of  the  Creator  for  His  CHOSEN  ONES.  The  iron  in  the  Cabbage 
to  correct  the  weak,  pale  face.  The  opium  in  the  Lettuce  and  Onion  for  the 
nervous,  the  juice  of  the  Celery  for  the  nervous.  Our  method  of  planting  and 
fertilizing  increases  and  intensifies  these  properties  in  the  different  vegetables. 

PRICES— 1,000  to  4,000,  $1.50  per  M;  4,000  to  9,000,  $1.25  per  M; 
over  9,000,  $1.00  per  M,  F.  O.  B.  Express  Office,  Meggetts,  S.  C. 

Shipments  ready  from  Nov.  1st  to  May  1st 

N.  H.  BLITCH  COMPANY 

219 


Notes  and  Personals. 


Everyone  should  join  in  this  prayer — of  Spurgeon: 

"O  Spirit  of  God,  make  us  all  more  holy.  Work  in  us  more 
completely  the  image  of  Christ.  We  long  to  be  as  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  in  spirit  and  temper,  and  in  unselfishness  of  life. 
Give  us  the  character  of  Christ.  Redemption  from  the 
power  of  sin  is  purchased  with  His  blood,  and  we  crave  it, 
and  pray  that  we  may  daily  receive  it.  Let  the  whole  militant 
Church  of  Christ  be  blessed ;  put  power  into  all  faithful  min- 
isters ;  convert  this  country ;  save  it  from  abounding  sin ;  let 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth  know  the  Lord.  The  Lord  bless 
His  people.  Bring  the  Church  to  break  down  all  bonds  of 
nationality  all  limits  of  sects,  and  may  we  feel  the  blessed 
unity  which  is  the  very  glory  of  the  Church  of  Christ ;  yea,  let 
the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  His  glory.  Our  prayer  can 
never  cease  until  'Thy  kingdom  come.  Thy  will  be  done  on 
earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.'  Hear  us  as  we  pray  for  the  chief 
magistrate  and  all  in  authority  and  for  Thy  blessing  to  rest 
upon  this  land.  Let  Thy  blessing  extend  over  all  the  family 
of  man.     We  ask  it  all  for  Christ's  sake.     Amen." 


FOR    SALE 

Twenty-seven  acres  in  the  heart  of  the  Town  of  Eutawville, 
S.  C,  including  residence,  barn,  tenant  house  and  out  buildings. 

Could  be  divided  in  most  desirable  building  lots.  Three  miles 
from  Eutaw  Springs.     Flowing  well  near. 

Will  sell  all,  or  the  lot,  to  suit  the  purchaser. 

P.   F.  WEST,   Exitawville.  S.  C. 

220 


Advertisements. 


NONE  BUT  THE  BEST  COMPANIES  REPRESENTED 

J.  FRANCIS  FOLK 

OFFICE  BANK  BUILDING  HOLLY  HILL,  S.  C. 

LEA  &  COMPANY 

KEEP  FULL  LINE  OF  DRUGS 

All  Prescriptions  carefully  compounded  by  experienced 
and  Licensed  Pharmacist 

Toilet  Supplies^  also  Dry  Goods^  Notions^     Millinery 
a  Specialty — Hats  made  to  order  by  skilled  Milliner 


We  keep  up  with  the  fashions  in  dress  and  our  customers  will 

have  the  advantage  of  artistic  developments  in  the 

latest  styles.     Secure  our  prescription,  and  get 

our  hat  and  dress,  and  be  healthy, 

harmonious  and  happy 

MAIN  STREET  HOLLY  HILL,  S.  C 


221 


Holly  Hill,  S.  C. 


HOLLY  HILL,  S.  C. 

Some  Years  Ago  the  Atlantic  Coast  Line  crossed  the  old 
State  road  from  Columbia  to  Charleston,  and  right  there  at 
this  cross  roads  a  little  town,  with  all  the  aspirations  of  a 
town,  was  born.  There  is  no  "hill"  in  all  Berkeley  County 
that  I  know  of  except  an  ascent  before  you  reach  the  Wasa- 
masaw  Swamp — but  the  cross  roads  aforementioned  was  some- 
what elevated  above  surrounding  plain  and  swamps,  and  there 
was,  too,  a  large,  thriving  holly  tree  near — hence  it  was 
called  Holly  Hill. 

The  only  difference  between  Holly  Hill  and  Chicago  is  that 
Chicago  is  bigger — Chicago  is  immense;  Holly  Hill  is  insig- 
nificant. Chicago  has  pork  packers ;  Holly  Hill  has  pork 
eaters  and  producers.  The  same  sort  of  human  nature  pre- 
vails in  both  towns — the  same  sort  of  sins  and  sinners,  and  the 
real  good  people  of  both  places  have  the  same  characteristics. 
Chicago,  I  find,  exerts  a  wonderful  influence  in  morals  and 
manners  on  other  smaller  communities — so  do  other  large  cen- 
ters of  population.  Holly  Hill,  and  other  villages  that  are 
progressive,  will  keep  up  with  the  fashionable  world  in  dress, 
decorations  or  divinity.  If  a  certain  balloon  sleeve  of  the 
feminine  gender  is  worn  in  Chicago,  and  a  big,  obnoxious 
bustle,  it  is  not  long  before  that  sleeve  and  that  big  bustle  will 
be  seen  in  the  little  Holly  Hills  of  our  land — you  can't  keep 
'em  out.  Holly  Hill,  S.  C,  has  a  Methodist  church  and  a 
Baptist  appointment.  The  Afro-Americans  have  three 
churches  within  the  corporate  limits.  The  colored  brethren 
shout  and  sing  lustily  and  are  very  religious,  but  their  morals 
as  a  colored  community  are  not  good — far  from  the  standard. 
The  possibilities  in  the  way  of  production  of  the  lands  sur- 
rounding Holly  Hill  are  wonderful.  Agriculture  is  progress- 
ing rapidly.  The  soil  yields  abundantly  corn,  cotton  and 
cane,  'taters,  goobers,  peas,  pumpkins  and  all  sorts  of  vege- 
tables.    The  farmers  generally  live  well   and  fare  sumptu- 


Holly  Hill,  S.  C. 

ously  all  the  year  round  on  their  home-raised  hog  and 
hominy.  Needed:  two  or  three  more  live  merchants  with 
capital;  a  good  hotel;  a  bright,  breezy  newspaper,  cleverly 
edited;  an  artesian  well;  a  knitting  mill,  or  oil  mill,  or 
cotton  mill,  or  some  sort  of  manufacturing  enterprise;  a 
brand  new  brick,  up-to-date  building  for  the  flourishing 
graded  school — and  also  more  of  the  undcfiled  religion — all  of 
wliich  I  believe  will  be  realized  ere  the  town  gets  gray  with  old 
age.  The  merchants  and  others  >vho  advertise  in  the  Circuit 
Rider's  Sketch  Book  are  the  leading  spirits,  and  the  future 
welfare  of  the  town  depends  largely  upon  them.  They  are 
growing  in  wisdom  and  liberahty,  and  all  seem  happy  and 
hopeful  of  better  days. 


"Chicago,  Oct.  7. — Reports  received  by  the  Tribune  from 
ten  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Conferences  in  Illinois  and 
neighboring  States  show  that  the  question  of  higher  salary 
for  the  average  minister  of  that  Church  has  reached  a  crisis. 

"The  generally  expressed  opinion  is  that  religious  work 
soon  will  suffer  for  lack  of  preachers  unless  salaries  are 
raised.  In  many  of  the  Conferences  just  held  there  was  an 
exodus  of  preachers  from  the  pulpit  to  enter  business  life. 

"The  higher  salaries  movement  was  discussed  and  advocated 
at  practically  all  the  Conferences. 

"Salaries  have  been  advanced  about  $100  each  during  the 
last  four  years,  but  this  increase — which  has  not  kept  pace 
with  the  increase  in  cost  of  living — has  failed  to  stem  the 
ministerial  stampede  into  business  life." — Tfie  State,  Co- 
lumbia. 

Thank  the  Lord  there  is  no  disposition  on  the  part  of  our 
effective  preachers  of  the  South  Carolina  Conference  to  for- 
sake their  high  calling — let  the  salary  be  small  or  great — and 
enter  the  whirl  of  business  life,  and  come  what  way,  God  help 
us  ever  to  be  faithful. 


223 


Advertisements. 


lank  nf  l^nllg  l|tU 

?i|nUg  fiftU.  #.  (H. 


W.L.  DeHay  De.  J.  L.  B.  Gilmorb  J.  Francis  Folk 

President  Vice-President  Casliier 

Miss  Leila  Rhame,  Asst.  Cashier 


lat?  of  Olliartpr  Sulg  r.  1905 

The  following  figures  show  that  we  have  pleased  our  patrons 

Deposits  September  30,  1905,  $13,598.21 
Deposits  September  30,  1906,  $18,405.32 
Deposits  September  30,  1901,  $71,082.59 

Wt  i'nltrit  ^nur  Patrnnagr 


(UJl^  ^nllg  i^tU  ^rai^Jt  ^rtjnnl 


A  well-organized  .graded  school  for  boys  and  girls.  De- 
lightfully situated  at  Holly  Hill,  S.  C.  Graduates  are 
prepared  for  entering  any  of  the  colleges  in  the  State,  and 
may  enter  Winthrop  without  examination.  A  movement 
now  on  foot  to  add  to  the  school  under  the  recent  high 
school  Act,  and  to  erect  a  handsome  brick  building.  The 
The  present  session  began  September  16  and  will  continue 
nine  months.     Experienced  faculty  consisting  of 

FITZHUGH  6ALLEY,  B.  A.  College  of  Charleston 

Teacher  of  High  School  Department 

MISS  BESSIE  MITCHELL,  B.  A.,  Leesville  College 
Intermediate  Department 

MISS  BERTIE  MATHENY,  Primary  Department 

For  further  information  address  the  Principal,  or  Dr.  J.  L.  B.  GILMORB,  Secretary 
of  the  Board. 

224 


Advertisements. 


The  Holly  Hill  Hardware  Company 

UNDER    NEW    MANAGEMENT 

Have  a  First  Class  Hardware  Store  in  every 
respect.  We  can  furnish  everything  in  Steel 
and  Iron  and  Farming  Implements,  from  a 
monkey  wrench  to  a  three-horse  Oliver  Sulky 
Plow.  We  carry  a  full  line  of  Stoves,  Ranges 
and  Kitchen  Furniture.  Paints,  Oils,  Var- 
nishes, Brushes,  Harness,  etc.  Also  a  choice 
line  of  Cutlery  that  are  Keen  Kutters,  and 
the  true  and  tried  American  Fence  Wire. 


GORDON  WIGGINS,  Manager 

HENRY  HORRES 

General  Merchant  and 
Cotton  Buyer 

Holly  Hill,  S.  C. 

Will  keep  full  line  of  men's  and  youths'  Ready-Made  Clothing. 
Specialty  in  children's  Clothing,  and  Hats,  Caps,  Shoes  and 
Notions.     My  Dry  Goods  Department  will  be  full  of 
Dress  Goods  of  finest  quality.     The  Ladies  espec- 
ially are  invited  to  come  to  my  store  and  in- 
spect my  beautiful  line   of  fabrics.     Will 
also  keep  in  stock  the  best  Groceries, 
Farmers'       Supplies,     Candies, 
Canned     Goods     and 
Patent  Drugs. 

My  object  will  be  to  please  all  my  customers  in  prices  and  goods.  Thanking 
my  friends  for  patronage  of  the  past,  I  ask  a  continuance  of  the  same,  assur- 
ing those  who  favor  me,  will  be  favored. 

225 


The  Negro  Question. 


THE  NEGRO  QUESTION. 

The  Grandson  of  the  old  darky  of  1850,  whose  love  and 
loyalty  to  "ole  marster  and  missus,"  was  as  conspicuous  as  it 
was  sincere,  has  been  been  wonderfully  evolutionized.  His 
heart  has  been  exalted,  and  he  sees  visions  afar  off  that  lend 
enchantment  to  the  view.  His  education  brings  out  a  char- 
acter not  so  pleasing,  often,  to  contemplate,  and  his  principles 
involve  adhesion  to  "rights"  that  conditions  of  nature  and 
birth  do  not  warrant  or  justify.  The  idea  of  any  sort  of 
menial  service  for  the  white  man  is  becoming  more  and  more 
abhorrent  to  the  common  negro.  It  may  be  the  knowledge  of 
the  slavery  of  his  fathers  produces  a  repugnance  or  indiffer- 
ence to  perform  tasks  for  tlie  "white  buckra."  It  may  be  the 
"colored"  laborer  is  becoming  more  delicate  and  refined. 
Anyway  today,  as  a  general  rule,  all  over  this  broad  land, 
colored  cooks  and  washing  women,  gardeners  and  ditchers,  and 
"wages  hands''  are  unreliable,  uncertain  and  often  hard  "to 
have  and  to  hold."  Education  increases  difficulties.  Hire  a 
negro  now,  if  you  can,  of  some  "lamin'  "  and  some  rations 
ahead,  to  serve  in  your  kitchen,  or  hoe  your  patch  of  cotton! 
The  thought  of  dependence  upon  the  white  man  is  becoming 
apparently  unpleasant  to  the  Afro-American  and  there  is  a 
striving  to  escape  a  consciousness  of  that  condition. 

In  rural  life,  if  the  darky  can  rent  his  forty  acres,  and 
buy  a  mule  on  credit,  and  get  some  one  "to  run  him  on  the 
lien"  he  will  not  give  his  sei*vices  for  the  best  wages,  nor  let 
himself  out  as  a  "cropper"  under  most  favorable  conditions. 

In  ecclesiastical  functions  the  dusky  prelate  wants  to  sit 
on  the  right  hand  of  things  in  Zion  with  the  same  pri^dleges, 
and  on  the  same  platform,  with  his  brother  in  white.  Our 
Southern  Church  years  ago  labored  dihgently  for  the  dark 
man's  welfare  and  did  sacrifice  for  liis  Christian  civihzation. 
Paine  and  Lane  Institutes  for  the  education  of  the  negro 
stand  as  evidence  of  the  Church's  sympathy  and  liberality. 


226 


The  Negro  Question. 


Thej  have  been  manned  by  our  oAvn  men  and  supported  by 
our  money.  Maybe  it  is  time  to  stop  and  let  them  follow  their 
own  ways.  It  would  please  them  well  and  gratify  the  colored 
cult  of  the  South  if  those  institutions  were  conducted  by 
negroes  for  negroes.  As  long  as  Paine  and  Lane  are  on  the 
list  of  benevolences  of  the  Church  we  will  annually  carry  to 
the  synod  of  the  saints  collections  for  their  maintenance,  but 
in  the  hght  of  recent  events  it  would  be  prudent  and  politic  to 
put  those  colleges,  for  fair  remuneration,  in  the  black  hands 
that  covet  them.  Dr.  J.  J.  LafFerty  recently,  in  the  Balti- 
more Methodist,  has  this  to  say  under  the  caption,  "Where 
Two  Seas  Meet" : 

"The  General  Conference  of  the  Northern  Methodist 
Church  at  its  last  session  propsed  a  change  in  the  constitution 
of  that  denomination  so  as  to  allow  Bishops  to  be  elected  'for 
work  among  particular  races  and  languages  or  for  any  of 
our  foreign  missions,  limiting  their  episcopal  jurisdiction  to 
the  same  respectively.'  The  Annual  Conferences  are  now 
voting  on  tliis  amendemnt.  There  are  discussions  in  their 
papers,  and  with  warmth. 

"The  'Brother  in  Black'  seems  not  to  favor  the  scheme. 
The  negro  Methodist  resents  what  he  calls  'a  Jim  Crow  Epis- 
copacy'— a  negro  Bishop  for  negro  Conferences.  Reverend 
Abbott,  a  negro,  declares  for  'a  whole  Bishop  or  no  Bishop  at 
all,'  which  means  a  negro  Bishop,  the  peer  of  white  Bishops  in 
every  function,  overseeing  the  white  Conferences,  ordaining 
the  white  licentiates,  preaching  'the  Conference  sermon'  and 
after  sel•^dces  taking  the  arm  of  the  first  lady  of  that  church, 
escorting  her  to  her  carriage,  or  rather  auto,  (with  white 
chauffer),  and  selecting  a  rear  seat  by  her  side — that's  'a 
whole  Bishop!'  The  Central  Missouri  Conference  (black) 
demands  a  Bishop  of  their  race  'as  much  Bishop  as  the  Rock 
River  or  New  York  East  Conferences'  (the  two  top  synods  of 
white  preachers)  could  furnish.  Zion's  Herald,  of  Boston, 
makes  boast  that  from  its  cradle  it  has  roared  and  rent  the 

227 


The  Negro  Question. 


air  as  a  Goliah  for  the  'black  race  in  the  South.'  Even  a 
Zion's  Herald  can  get  a  gorge.  For  fifty  years  and  more  it 
has  bellowed  bravely  for  the  blacks,  in  the  distant  'South.' 
But  when  its  negro  Methodists  refuse  to  be  'satisfied  with  no 
other  sort  of  a  superintendent  than  one  who  will  rank  in  all 
respects  to  preside  over  wliite  as  well  as  colored  Conferences' 
— it  tilts  the  diaphragm  of  the  Boston  editor. 

"Never  did  we  dream  of  such  a  drastic  dose  to  the  'black 
race  in  the  South'  as  the  prescription  of  Parkhurst,  of  Zion's 
Herald.  Lend  an  ear  and  listen.  This  from  Zion's  Herald, 
of  Boston,  organ  of  New  England  Methodism:  'The  fact 
might  as  well  be  plainly  stated  that  negro  writers  who  plead 
for  a  Bishop  of  their  own  race  who  "shall  be  as  good  as  any 
other  Bishop  with  the  same  prerogatives  and  jurisdiction" 
are  hurting  the  very  interests  which  tHey  vainly  think  thus 
to  advance.'  Editor  Parkhurst  rubs  in  the  cayenne.  'There 
is  no  likelihood  that  in  our  generation  a  negro  Bishop  will 
ever  be  allowed  to  preside  over  a  white  Conference.'  Shades 
of  Gil  Haven ! 

"Our  Northern  brethren  are  where  'two  seas  meet.'  If  a 
whole  Bishop  of  the  African  assortment  is  not  elected  the  col- 
ored members  may  forsake  'the  mother  Church.'  If  a  fat 
and  odorous  prelate,  with  skin  soft  and  shining  as  a  new 
rubber  shoe,  presides  'over'  New  England  pulpiteers,  then 
there  will  be  a  righteous  ruction.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
threat  hangs  menacing,  hke  the  sword  of  Damocles,  of  cap- 
turing the  chief  seats  of  the  high  priests.  If  the  'amend- 
ment' is  adopted  permitting  negro  Bishops  for  negro 
preachers,  German  prelates  for  German,  etc.,  a  chief  captain 
of  the  colored  corps  tells  how  the  members  of  a  General  Con- 
ference of  African,  Chinese,  Hindoo  will  combine  and  make 
their  candidates  full  'whole'  Bishops  by  a  majority  vote.  Or 
these  members  of  divers  'races,'  'languages,'  a  majority 
would  refuse  to  elect  full  Bishops  till  all  of  that  sort  die  out 
and  so  end  the  Wesleyan-Asbury  episcopacy !" 


228 


Advertisements. 


Dr    I   I    R  Gilmorp  physician 

L/l  .  J.   U.  U.  UIIIIIUI  C   AND  DRUGGIST 

MODEL  DRUG  STORE 

Experienced  Pharmacist,  Finest  Assortment  of  Toilet 
Articles,  Stationery  and  Perfumes 

''''    W.B.  GROSS      °^ 

STAPLE  AND  FANCY  GROCERffiS 

ALSO  PATENT  DRUGS  AND 

SMALL  NOTIONS 

Two  things  I  aim  to  accomplish:  Please  my  customers  in  prices  and  quality 
of  goods, 

OPPOSITE  DEPOT,  HOLLY  HILL,  S.  C. 


Here  We  Are! 


A  NEW  FIRM  in  A  NEW  STORE 
with  ALL  NEW  GOODS 


The  Book  says:  "AU  the  labor  of  a  man  is  for  hi«  mouth"— and  we  can  fill  it. 

A  line  of  General  Merchandise  at  prices  to  suit  you. 
Come  on  and  give  us  a  trial.  Highest  prices  paid  for 
Chickens,  Eggs  and  Country  Produce.   Holiday  Goods 

Santa  Claos  will  be  conspicuous  in  December 

RHAME  &  HEESEMANN. 


HOLLY    HILL. 

SOUTH     CAROLINA 


C.  A.  EAGLESTON 

AT  THE  SAME  OLD  STAND— HOLLY  HILL,  S.  C 

Where  all  are  welcome,  and  politest  attention  given  to 

customers.     My  Winter  and  Christmas  stock  full 

and  complete  in  Dry  Goods,  Groceries,  Hats, 

Shoes,  Clothing,  Tobaccos,  etc. 

I  STRIVE  TO  PLEASE 
229 


Advertisements. 

'  'If  at  first  you  don  H  succeed 
Try^  try  J  again^^ 

The  big  fire  of  July  destroyed  our  store  and  stock 
of  goods,  but  on  their  ashes  a  large  brick  store  now 
stands  full  of  DRY  GOODS,  GROCERIES, 
NOTIONS,  etc.  I  am  "trying  it  again,"  and  be- 
lieve I'll  get  there  with  large  sales  and  small  profits. 
We  have  on  hand  now  the  finest  grade  of  top 
and  open  Buggies,  Carriages  and  other  vehicles 
ever  brought  to  Holly  Hill.  Also  a  Feed  and  Sale 
Stable.  If  you  want  a  fine  horse  or  mule,  call  on 
us  at  once.  Come  and  see  for  yourselves.  We 
thank  our  patrons  of  the  past,  and  want  them  to 
'try  again," 

A.  B.  BENNETT 

HOLLY   HILL,   S.  C. 

J.  G.  CLARK 

The   only  man  in   Holly   Hill,  S.  C,  that   runs  a 
Five  and  Ten  Cents  Store 

Wonderful  Values  for  a  dime!     Also  keep  a  full  line  of 
Glassware,  Crockery,  Tinware  and  Notions 

Come  and  see  what  I  have  to  sell,  and  then 
go  and  your  neighbors  tell 

I  DEAL  IN  GOOD  GRUB,  GRITS  and  OTHER 
GROCERIES,  Ham,  Rice,  Flour,  Sugar,  Syrup, 
&c.  A  beautiful  array  of  finest  brands  of  Canned 
Goods  occupy  the  shelves.  My  Cigars  and  Tobacco 
among  the  best.  Fruits  a  specialty — also  Mackerel, 
Picketed  Pork  and  other  Meats.  Everything  for 
the  inward  man  kept  on  hand. 


HENRY  D.  PRICE^s". 

230 


OLLY      HILL 

OUTH  CAROLINA 


Ir 


